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 Moldova and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Marvin Gaye to the techno 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Adolescents tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pagans,
Alice Coltrane,
Jandek,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delta 5,
The Vogues,
Roxy Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bob Dylan,
Minnie Riperton,
Rufus Thomas,
the Slits,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Drexciya,
The Selecter,
Flipper,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kevin Saunderson,
K-Klass,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gichy Dan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Standells,
Marc Almond,
The Victims,
The Smoke,
The Fugs,
Sound Behaviour,
Moby Grape,
Byron Stingily,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Swans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Q65,
Fugazi,
Brick,
The Smiths,
Gang of Four,
Sandy B,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
These Immortal Souls,
Iggy Pop,
Siglo XX,
The Divine Comedy,
Fela Kuti,
Tom Boy,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Halsall,
Maurizio,
Model 500,
John Lydon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Piero Umiliani,
CMW,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Quantec,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.