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 Kuwait and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Chris Corsano to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nation of Ulysses,
Altered Images,
Wolf Eyes,
New Age Steppers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Mission of Burma,
X-102,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kerri Chandler,
Grey Daturas,
Freddie Wadling,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Girls At Our Best!,
D'Angelo,
Magma,
Brass Construction,
The Remains,
Funkadelic,
Yaz,
Lucky Dragons,
Pagans,
The Gap Band,
Yusef Lateef,
The Skatalites,
Reuben Wilson,
Pantytec,
Brick,
Trumans Water,
Maleditus Sound,
The Moleskins,
Josef K,
Marvin Gaye,
FM Einheit,
Sun Ra,
Sugar Minott,
Scrapy,
Sixth Finger,
U.S. Maple,
Scan 7,
John Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
The Standells,
Agent Orange,
Jerry's Kids,
Technova,
Flipper,
Barclay James Harvest,
Michelle Simonal,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Vladislav Delay,
B.T. Express,
Swans,
Fear,
Kayak,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Y Pants,
Glenn Branca,
The Dead C,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Archie Shepp,
Cal Tjader,
Eric Copeland,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.