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 Cape Verde and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 808 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 Electric Prunes to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Vladislav Delay,
Essential Logic,
Max Romeo,
Man Parrish,
The Litter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Toasters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Yellowson,
David Axelrod,
Procol Harum,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sandy B,
The Dave Clark Five,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Minnie Riperton,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Skatalites,
Fear,
The Raincoats,
The Slits,
The Pretty Things,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Susan Cadogan,
Joey Negro,
Skaos,
Michelle Simonal,
Delon & Dalcan,
Marvin Gaye,
the Association,
L. Decosne,
Sonic Youth,
Suburban Knight,
The Star Department,
Excepter,
Young Marble Giants,
Letta Mbulu,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Mandrill,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Zeros,
Spoonie Gee,
Warren Ellis,
The Residents,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
The Gun Club,
DNA,
Faust,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ronan,
Aaron Thompson,
Wings,
Spandau Ballet,
Crooked Eye,
EPMD,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cluster,
Deadbeat,
Wally Richardson,
PIL,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.