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 Spain and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 Minnie Riperton to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Delta 5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brick,
Andrew Hill,
Roxy Music,
Mo-Dettes,
F. McDonald,
The Barracudas,
Roxette,
Oblivians,
Little Man,
The Durutti Column,
Minnie Riperton,
Buzzcocks,
Lindisfarne,
Don Cherry,
John Holt,
Black Bananas,
Nick Fraelich,
Scrapy,
Scan 7,
Inner City,
Rakim,
Toni Rubio,
Organ,
Barry Ungar,
Boredoms,
The Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Lou Christie,
Lee Hazlewood,
10cc,
John Lydon,
Swans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Arab on Radar,
The Human League,
Vladislav Delay,
Bad Manners,
The Raincoats,
PIL,
Bob Dylan,
The Names,
Glenn Branca,
Quando Quango,
The Cowsills,
Arcadia,
Half Japanese,
X-Ray Spex,
a-ha,
The Doors,
Underground Resistance,
Darondo,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lyres,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Slave,
Mars,
The Buckinghams,
Funkadelic,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.