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 Somalia and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Public Enemy to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Max Romeo,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fire Engines,
Kurtis Blow,
Shoche,
Sparks,
Warsaw,
Aswad,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harry Pussy,
Peter and Kerry,
Index,
La Düsseldorf,
The Raincoats,
JFA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Dead C,
Magma,
Amon Düül II,
Roxy Music,
Altered Images,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Doors,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ituana,
Ornette Coleman,
Lucky Dragons,
Aural Exciters,
Scion,
X-102,
Franke,
The Fugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Stetsasonic,
Swans,
Pagans,
Bad Manners,
Alice Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deakin,
The Seeds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Kaleidoscope,
Todd Terry,
kango's stein massive,
the Sonics,
Toni Rubio,
Funky Four + One,
Pylon,
DJ Sneak,
Q65,
Rekid,
Roger Hodgson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.