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 Vietnam and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 Robert Palmer 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 Red Krayola to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Evens. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Das Ding,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
the Bar-Kays,
Blossom Toes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fugazi,
Roger Hodgson,
Interpol,
The Stooges,
Dennis Brown,
Bush Tetras,
The Standells,
This Heat,
Bill Wells,
Letta Mbulu,
Donald Byrd,
The Gap Band,
Audionom,
Pierre Henry,
The Cure,
Albert Ayler,
Pagans,
June of 44,
Ossler,
Rotary Connection,
Malaria!,
Kerri Chandler,
Mad Mike,
The Litter,
Yazoo,
The Techniques,
Bob Dylan,
Porter Ricks,
The Happenings,
Kerrie Biddell,
Wings,
Black Moon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Toasters,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Colin Newman,
Joe Finger,
Slick Rick,
David McCallum,
Kenny Larkin,
Tubeway Army,
Tears for Fears,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roxy Music,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The J.B.'s,
Agent Orange,
Faraquet,
Godley & Creme,
Arthur Verocai,
Mars,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nation of Ulysses,
James White and The Blacks,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.