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 Ireland and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 organ 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 Funkadelic to the jazz 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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
8 Eyed Spy,
Byron Stingily,
June of 44,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Youth Brigade,
Mr. Review,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Darondo,
Drive Like Jehu,
Slave,
Lower 48,
Public Image Ltd.,
Visage,
Audionom,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Man Parrish,
Dual Sessions,
The Golliwogs,
The Wake,
Soulsonic Force,
Bang On A Can,
Maleditus Sound,
Cymande,
Robert Wyatt,
Brass Construction,
Peter & Gordon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Radiopuhelimet,
Zapp,
E-Dancer,
the Association,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Public Enemy,
Black Flag,
The Dirtbombs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Blake Baxter,
Kaleidoscope,
Swans,
Fatback Band,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Carl Craig,
Suburban Knight,
The Pretty Things,
Charles Mingus,
Nirvana,
The Shadows of Knight,
Cluster,
Neil Young,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fortunes,
The Moleskins,
Rakim,
The Blues Magoos,
Patti Smith,
Popol Vuh,
Dorothy Ashby,
Siglo XX,
R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O., R.M.O..
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.