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 Hungary and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Brothers Johnson to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo 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 disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Heaven 17,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Easy Going,
Slave,
Michelle Simonal,
OOIOO,
Bobby Byrd,
Y Pants,
The Martian,
Barclay James Harvest,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultravox,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pylon,
Lower 48,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Letta Mbulu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
Crash Course in Science,
Eurythmics,
Symarip,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Don Cherry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fela Kuti,
Scion,
Gang Starr,
James White and The Blacks,
Albert Ayler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Young Marble Giants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Steve Hackett,
Vladislav Delay,
Kurtis Blow,
Maurizio,
Jacques Brel,
Cluster,
Ronan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bad Manners,
F. McDonald,
Gichy Dan,
Aural Exciters,
Swell Maps,
Inner City,
Underground Resistance,
Mission of Burma,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Derrick May,
Kaleidoscope,
Deakin,
Roger Hodgson,
Moby Grape,
Khruangbin,
Negative Approach,
The Smoke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ronnie Foster,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.