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 Ukraine and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Intrusion to the grunge 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Crash Course in Science tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Accadde A,
New Order,
The United States of America,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rosa Yemen,
The Gladiators,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Shuggie Otis,
Graham Central Station,
Outsiders,
The Velvet Underground,
Soft Cell,
Unrelated Segments,
Amazonics,
Lindisfarne,
The Flesh Eaters,
Average White Band,
Cecil Taylor,
the Bar-Kays,
Al Stewart,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Peter and Kerry,
Rakim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sex Pistols,
D'Angelo,
Negative Approach,
Alton Ellis,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantaleimon,
Bob Dylan,
Little Man,
Janne Schatter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
X-102,
Wolf Eyes,
H. Thieme,
Eden Ahbez,
DJ Style,
Chris & Cosey,
Idris Muhammad,
James White and The Blacks,
Malaria!,
Charles Mingus,
Stiv Bators,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang of Four,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moebius,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Colin Newman,
The Black Dice,
Mo-Dettes,
Agent Orange,
The American Breed,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.