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 Kosovo and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
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 guitar 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peter & Gordon. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Clear Light,
June of 44,
Soft Machine,
Lou Reed,
Bootsy Collins,
Faust,
Monks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ken Boothe,
Anakelly,
Icehouse,
Dorothy Ashby,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rites of Spring,
Procol Harum,
U.S. Maple,
Eurythmics,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Warsaw,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Marine Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Groovy Waters,
Saccharine Trust,
Altered Images,
Sam Rivers,
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Franke,
The Five Americans,
Barry Ungar,
the Sonics,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Kinks,
ABC,
DJ Sneak,
Eric Copeland,
Crooked Eye,
Scrapy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
KRS-One,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Saints,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Last Poets,
Scan 7,
Carl Craig,
The Flesh Eaters,
Agent Orange,
Howard Jones,
The Gladiators,
Rosa Yemen,
Unrelated Segments,
Mission of Burma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Organ,
Slick Rick,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.