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 Norway and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Holger Czukay 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 Freddie Wadling to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Barrington Levy,
The Slits,
The Dead C,
Blake Baxter,
Scott Walker,
Funky Four + One,
The Zeros,
Agitation Free,
The Residents,
Silicon Teens,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bauhaus,
Duran Duran,
Royal Trux,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Funkadelic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Skatalites,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Faraquet,
Kool Moe Dee,
Main Source,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Neu!,
The Blues Magoos,
The Techniques,
Q and Not U,
Tropical Tobacco,
Grey Daturas,
Aswad,
K-Klass,
Tommy Roe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joe Finger,
Derrick Morgan,
Clear Light,
Suburban Knight,
The Velvet Underground,
Zapp,
Mars,
The Cure,
Drive Like Jehu,
Janne Schatter,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Althea and Donna,
New Order,
Simply Red,
Sight & Sound,
Guru Guru,
Tres Demented,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minnie Riperton,
Pantaleimon,
Josef K,
U.S. Maple,
The Sound,
Carl Craig,
T. Rex,
Sex Pistols,
The Electric Prunes,
The Raincoats,
Dawn Penn,
Goldenarms,
The Motions, The Motions, The Motions, The Motions.
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.