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 Mali and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lower 48 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Prince Buster,
Johnny Clarke,
H. Thieme,
The United States of America,
Electric Prunes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Amon Düül II,
Bob Dylan,
Idris Muhammad,
Fela Kuti,
The Last Poets,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Theoretical Girls,
Minny Pops,
Inner City,
Robert Wyatt,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy Collins,
OOIOO,
The Tremeloes,
Roxette,
Bobby Sherman,
Spoonie Gee,
Con Funk Shun,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
EPMD,
Isaac Hayes,
Massinfluence,
Blake Baxter,
T.S.O.L.,
New Order,
K-Klass,
The Neon Judgement,
The Fuzztones,
Model 500,
Bush Tetras,
U.S. Maple,
Gang Green,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare,
The Music Machine,
Jesper Dahlback,
Letta Mbulu,
Nils Olav,
Adolescents,
Lalann,
Vainqueur,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pierre Henry,
Arab on Radar,
The Fire Engines,
Suicide,
Second Layer,
Dead Boys,
The Vogues,
Delon & Dalcan,
Echospace,
The Fortunes,
Grey Daturas,
The American Breed,
Pere Ubu,
Skaos,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.