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 Saudi Arabia and from London.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fortunes to the crunk 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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sarah Menescal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
The Fire Engines,
James White and The Blacks,
David Bowie,
Subhumans,
Donald Byrd,
World's Most,
Lyres,
Roxette,
Cal Tjader,
Hoover,
Roxy Music,
Alton Ellis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Fluxion,
EPMD,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Beau Brummels,
Leonard Cohen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yaz,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ice-T,
Scott Walker,
X-Ray Spex,
Laurel Aitken,
Marine Girls,
Lower 48,
Matthew Bourne,
Grey Daturas,
Letta Mbulu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
Warsaw,
Man Eating Sloth,
Johnny Clarke,
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
Porter Ricks,
Quando Quango,
Minny Pops,
Arab on Radar,
Slick Rick,
Aloha Tigers,
The Vogues,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Crispy Ambulance,
Shuggie Otis,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Magma,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Minutemen,
MDC,
Godley & Creme,
Spoonie Gee,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.