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 Guatemala and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 oboe 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo 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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sam Rivers,
Althea and Donna,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sixth Finger,
Kurtis Blow,
Ten City,
Roxette,
The Cramps,
Index,
10cc,
The Evens,
X-101,
Wolf Eyes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Techniques,
Drexciya,
James White and The Blacks,
the Normal,
Harry Pussy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Zeros,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The American Breed,
The Stooges,
Soul II Soul,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Circle Jerks,
Shuggie Otis,
Clear Light,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
CMW,
The Standells,
Ponytail,
The Pretty Things,
Unwound,
Magma,
Dead Boys,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Make Up,
China Crisis,
Youth Brigade,
Tomorrow,
John Cale,
Crispy Ambulance,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reuben Wilson,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Tremeloes,
A Certain Ratio,
Ice-T,
Davy DMX,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fela Kuti,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.