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 Gabon and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb 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 Saints to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 H. Thieme. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gories,
Laurel Aitken,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mandrill,
The Blues Magoos,
Smog,
Circle Jerks,
Cheater Slicks,
The Index,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Green,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Skaos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Man Eating Sloth,
Public Enemy,
Agent Orange,
Amon Düül II,
Prince Buster,
The Fortunes,
Iggy Pop,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
F. McDonald,
Porter Ricks,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Real Kids,
the Slits,
Fear,
Cal Tjader,
Simply Red,
Zapp,
Blake Baxter,
The Move,
Moebius,
Q and Not U,
Flash Fearless,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
Roy Ayers,
Sixth Finger,
X-Ray Spex,
Lou Christie,
Kenny Larkin,
The Toasters,
Vainqueur,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minnie Riperton,
Flipper,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Star Department,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Black Pus,
Erykah Badu,
Saccharine Trust,
Model 500,
Royal Trux,
MDC,
Patti Smith,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.