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 Kosovo and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alarm Clocks to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vaughan Mason & Crew record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Crime,
The Slits,
Barrington Levy,
Metal Thangz,
Suicide,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Clarke,
Fugazi,
The Victims,
Robert Hood,
Marine Girls,
Joy Division,
Audionom,
Lower 48,
Roxette,
The Mummies,
Television,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blackbyrds,
David Bowie,
The Trojans,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Boz Scaggs,
Aural Exciters,
Jacques Brel,
Robert Görl,
Big Daddy Kane,
Spoonie Gee,
Kerri Chandler,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Zero Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
Silicon Teens,
The Real Kids,
The Kinks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Pop Group,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Reagan Youth,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skaos,
Theoretical Girls,
Sister Nancy,
Fluxion,
Technova,
Vladislav Delay,
Todd Rundgren,
OOIOO,
The Remains,
Lightning Bolt,
Bauhaus,
Niagra,
Saccharine Trust,
Livin' Joy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Aaron Thompson,
Letta Mbulu,
Mr. Review,
Masters at Work,
Echospace, Echospace, Echospace, Echospace.
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.