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 Malawi and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gories to the disco 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 Sparks. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
Mars,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Excepter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Young Rascals,
Erykah Badu,
Bobby Byrd,
Zapp,
Interpol,
John Coltrane,
Ohio Players,
Television Personalities,
The Doobie Brothers,
Andrew Hill,
Altered Images,
Girls At Our Best!,
Juan Atkins,
Hot Snakes,
Aloha Tigers,
Darondo,
Mo-Dettes,
Tom Boy,
Pagans,
Sarah Menescal,
Intrusion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Essential Logic,
T. Rex,
Con Funk Shun,
X-Ray Spex,
Popol Vuh,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Average White Band,
Camouflage,
Babytalk,
Rufus Thomas,
Marvin Gaye,
The Velvet Underground,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Real Kids,
One Last Wish,
Gang Green,
Dual Sessions,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Goldenarms,
Don Cherry,
The Moody Blues,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cheater Slicks,
Steve Hackett,
The Dave Clark Five,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
EPMD,
Marine Girls,
The Toasters,
The Fortunes,
Angry Samoans,
Alton Ellis,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Machine,
David Bowie,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.