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 Djibouti and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the theremin 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 Funkadelic to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Standells. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Aswad,
Eric Dolphy,
John Holt,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Smoke,
the Swans,
Technova,
Porter Ricks,
The Selecter,
The Cowsills,
Sister Nancy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Harry Pussy,
Dual Sessions,
Dark Day,
Hasil Adkins,
Buzzcocks,
Deakin,
The Young Rascals,
Cal Tjader,
The Golliwogs,
The Moleskins,
This Heat,
Black Sheep,
Bill Near,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Depeche Mode,
Toni Rubio,
The Cramps,
Erasure,
Scion,
The Buckinghams,
A Certain Ratio,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Names,
Fugazi,
D'Angelo,
Niagra,
John Lydon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
These Immortal Souls,
Heaven 17,
New York Dolls,
The Vogues,
Organ,
The Skatalites,
Mark Hollis,
Quando Quango,
Wasted Youth,
The Happenings,
Barbara Tucker,
Albert Ayler,
Girls At Our Best!,
Todd Terry,
Popol Vuh,
Fatback Band,
Black Moon,
Kerri Chandler,
Qualms,
Das Ding,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.