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 Cuba and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Mumbai.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Porter Ricks to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Crash Course in Science,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vainqueur,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tim Buckley,
Camberwell Now,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Human League,
The Slits,
Ultra Naté,
Pagans,
Young Marble Giants,
The Divine Comedy,
The Martian,
Chris & Cosey,
Mission of Burma,
Yaz,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ituana,
Q and Not U,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ponytail,
Jesper Dahlback,
Josef K,
Chris Corsano,
Echospace,
Slave,
Byron Stingily,
The Shadows of Knight,
F. McDonald,
Alice Coltrane,
Isaac Hayes,
Royal Trux,
The Gories,
Nick Fraelich,
Wire,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Suicide,
Toni Rubio,
Sex Pistols,
Carl Craig,
John Holt,
Matthew Halsall,
L. Decosne,
Trumans Water,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Christie,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rites of Spring,
the Fania All-Stars,
Das Ding,
Infiniti,
The Black Dice,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terry Callier,
Archie Shepp,
H. Thieme,
Bang On A Can,
The Skatalites,
The Smiths,
Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord, Deepchord.
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.