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 Netherlands and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 rhodes 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 Graham Central Station to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Byron Stingily,
Terry Callier,
Bootsy Collins,
The Index,
Jacob Miller,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Suburban Knight,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Saints,
Don Cherry,
Saccharine Trust,
Black Pus,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ronan,
Joy Division,
Fad Gadget,
Eden Ahbez,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Martian,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Albert Ayler,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soulsonic Force,
Panda Bear,
Brass Construction,
Charles Mingus,
Mo-Dettes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Mummies,
X-102,
Fear,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Shadows of Knight,
New Age Steppers,
Eli Mardock,
Technova,
Laurel Aitken,
Electric Prunes,
The Durutti Column,
Marcia Griffiths,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Little Man,
Thee Headcoats,
Nirvana,
Bobby Womack,
Howard Jones,
The Searchers,
Althea and Donna,
The Blackbyrds,
June Days,
Curtis Mayfield,
Tom Boy,
Model 500,
Glambeats Corp.,
Magma,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeff Mills,
Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan, Gichy Dan.
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.