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 Turkmenistan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Residents to the techno 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Görl,
Scion,
The J.B.'s,
Kerri Chandler,
Barbara Tucker,
Tropical Tobacco,
Television,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Negative Approach,
Aswad,
DJ Sneak,
Juan Atkins,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ronnie Foster,
Warsaw,
London Community Gospel Choir,
X-101,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sonny Sharrock,
Interpol,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rites of Spring,
Soft Machine,
David Bowie,
The Doors,
Pole,
Joy Division,
The Pretty Things,
Agent Orange,
Bang On A Can,
AZ,
The Litter,
The Wake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eli Mardock,
Rapeman,
Technova,
John Coltrane,
The Skatalites,
Ultra Naté,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Near,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mantronix,
Hashim,
The Smoke,
Metal Thangz,
Pagans,
Bill Wells,
Ronan,
Groovy Waters,
Nation of Ulysses,
ABBA,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stockholm Monsters,
Young Marble Giants,
Joe Finger,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.