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 Jordan and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 snare 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Angry Samoans. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scan 7,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Move,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bob Dylan,
Electric Prunes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Carl Craig,
Thee Headcoats,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
The Remains,
Fatback Band,
Second Layer,
The Leaves,
The Monochrome Set,
Lightning Bolt,
The Victims,
Ten City,
Bootsy Collins,
Idris Muhammad,
Procol Harum,
EPMD,
The Red Krayola,
K-Klass,
Eric Dolphy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
Subhumans,
Suicide,
Bobby Sherman,
Radio Birdman,
Black Sheep,
Skriet,
Porter Ricks,
Shoche,
cv313,
Rotary Connection,
X-Ray Spex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Silicon Teens,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Trojans,
Easy Going,
Kaleidoscope,
Lalann,
Lungfish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Urselle,
AZ,
James White and The Blacks,
Spoonie Gee,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rod Modell,
Howard Jones,
Cecil Taylor,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.