Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Guinea-Bissau and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ultramagnetic MC's to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Siglo XX record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Dawn Penn,
Gregory Isaacs,
Wasted Youth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Aural Exciters,
Lou Christie,
These Immortal Souls,
Funkadelic,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Shadows of Knight,
Big Daddy Kane,
Roger Hodgson,
Pantytec,
kango's stein massive,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Al Stewart,
Toni Rubio,
Iggy Pop,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Sherman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minny Pops,
Lucky Dragons,
Sexual Harrassment,
Harry Pussy,
Outsiders,
Young Marble Giants,
Guru Guru,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Delon & Dalcan,
Massinfluence,
Black Flag,
The Beau Brummels,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Country Teasers,
the Normal,
Negative Approach,
Maurizio,
Kaleidoscope,
Don Cherry,
Alphaville,
Motorama,
Soft Cell,
Bootsy Collins,
Andrew Hill,
Sandy B,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Japan,
Radiohead,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Moon,
Dave Gahan,
Organ,
In Retrospect,
Freddie Wadling,
Bluetip,
John Coltrane,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.