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 Ghana and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Houston.
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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Popol Vuh to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Kaleidoscope tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skarface record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
The Searchers,
The Smoke,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Desert Stars,
OOIOO,
Cecil Taylor,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Scratch Acid,
Essential Logic,
Marcia Griffiths,
China Crisis,
Darondo,
Porter Ricks,
Donald Byrd,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Spandau Ballet,
Organ,
Scientists,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nik Kershaw,
Rakim,
Symarip,
Big Daddy Kane,
K-Klass,
The Techniques,
Avey Tare,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
MDC,
Tommy Roe,
Alice Coltrane,
June Days,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marvin Gaye,
Groovy Waters,
The Angels of Light,
Liliput,
Isaac Hayes,
Bang On A Can,
Joe Finger,
The Gap Band,
Unwound,
the Germs,
Popol Vuh,
The Misunderstood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Toni Rubio,
Smog,
EPMD,
Guru Guru,
Negative Approach,
Ornette Coleman,
The Index,
Jandek,
Barry Ungar,
John Cale,
Barrington Levy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sugar Minott,
Public Enemy,
Nirvana,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.