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 Pakistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Skriet to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Girls At Our Best!,
The Busters,
Jawbox,
The Moleskins,
Section 25,
B.T. Express,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Trumans Water,
The Five Americans,
X-101,
New Age Steppers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mission of Burma,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Walker Brothers,
Cecil Taylor,
Electric Prunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
Basic Channel,
Aswad,
Scrapy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pantytec,
Masters at Work,
Television Personalities,
The Happenings,
Max Romeo,
the Soft Cell,
MC5,
The Stooges,
The Young Rascals,
Alison Limerick,
Agent Orange,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiohead,
Das Ding,
Joey Negro,
Deakin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Misunderstood,
Harmonia,
Pere Ubu,
La Düsseldorf,
The Skatalites,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Smog,
Black Bananas,
Echospace,
The Remains,
The Shadows of Knight,
Quantec,
Kevin Saunderson,
Peter & Gordon,
Glambeats Corp.,
Brothers Johnson,
Sister Nancy,
kango's stein massive,
Tomorrow,
Ituana,
Alice Coltrane,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.