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 Mauritania and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 Rites of Spring to the disco 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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Howard Jones,
Althea and Donna,
Rekid,
X-102,
Skaos,
The Remains,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Visage,
The Cramps,
the Germs,
The Electric Prunes,
Joe Finger,
Jesper Dahlback,
Blossom Toes,
The Alarm Clocks,
T.S.O.L.,
Sixth Finger,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Accadde A,
Rosa Yemen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Television Personalities,
Make Up,
Joy Division,
The Last Poets,
Alton Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barrington Levy,
Carl Craig,
The Beau Brummels,
The Shadows of Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
Cybotron,
Davy DMX,
Sister Nancy,
The American Breed,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Barclay James Harvest,
Morten Harket,
DNA,
Maurizio,
The Knickerbockers,
Agitation Free,
The Buckinghams,
Patti Smith,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Khruangbin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jeru the Damaja,
Dark Day,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Duran Duran,
Lee Hazlewood,
Marmalade,
Quantec,
The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques, The Techniques.
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.