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 India and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Sandy B to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Toni Rubio,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Accadde A,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Black Bananas,
Magazine,
Desert Stars,
Sällskapet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Davy DMX,
Hashim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
ABBA,
Todd Terry,
Kayak,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lalann,
Qualms,
Fatback Band,
ABC,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dead Boys,
The Invisible,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Don Cherry,
Flash Fearless,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
T. Rex,
Bush Tetras,
Nirvana,
The Index,
Mission of Burma,
Zapp,
The Seeds,
Symarip,
Funky Four + One,
Henry Cow,
The Motions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nick Fraelich,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Visage,
Severed Heads,
The Angels of Light,
Jacob Miller,
The Durutti Column,
The Fugs,
Sixth Finger,
Max Romeo,
Porter Ricks,
Sun City Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
David McCallum,
Scott Walker,
Faraquet,
Faust,
L. Decosne,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America, The United States of America.
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.