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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 The Sisters of Mercy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Inner City,
Bush Tetras,
Cameo,
Bill Wells,
Byron Stingily,
London Community Gospel Choir,
K-Klass,
The Kinks,
ABBA,
Vladislav Delay,
The Young Rascals,
Curtis Mayfield,
Animal Collective,
Cymande,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Motorama,
Morten Harket,
China Crisis,
Half Japanese,
Robert Wyatt,
The Grass Roots,
Procol Harum,
The Modern Lovers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
This Heat,
Todd Rundgren,
These Immortal Souls,
Urselle,
The Blackbyrds,
The Golliwogs,
Tom Boy,
Scrapy,
Skarface,
Ludus,
Nirvana,
The Tremeloes,
The Red Krayola,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Roy Ayers,
Outsiders,
Mars,
Ten City,
Howard Jones,
Jerry's Kids,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pylon,
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor,
The Velvet Underground,
Idris Muhammad,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lou Reed,
FM Einheit,
Leonard Cohen,
The J.B.'s,
Lower 48,
David Bowie,
Archie Shepp,
Faust,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.