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 Monaco and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Robert Hood 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Rakim,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jeff Mills,
The Martian,
One Last Wish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Deepchord,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers,
Pussy Galore,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nas,
Neil Young,
Steve Hackett,
Cymande,
Sun City Girls,
Niagra,
Schoolly D,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Josef K,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Mo-Dettes,
Popol Vuh,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Black Flag,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Glenn Branca,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Near,
Sam Rivers,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jacob Miller,
Derrick May,
The Busters,
Pantytec,
Minnie Riperton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Judy Mowatt,
Underground Resistance,
Duran Duran,
Make Up,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lee Hazlewood,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neu!,
The Fortunes,
Minutemen,
The Motions,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Pere Ubu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Hot Snakes,
Scratch Acid,
Nils Olav,
Connie Case,
Roxette,
Matthew Bourne,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
L. Decosne,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.