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 Kenya and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the dance 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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crime record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Pussy Galore,
Carl Craig,
Ken Boothe,
Graham Central Station,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Copeland,
Basic Channel,
Shuggie Otis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bluetip,
Television Personalities,
Bad Manners,
The Cowsills,
the Normal,
LL Cool J,
Visage,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Franke,
Sandy B,
Deakin,
Quando Quango,
The Happenings,
Ultra Naté,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
Nils Olav,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Swans,
The Remains,
The Golliwogs,
Laurel Aitken,
Agitation Free,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Index,
Godley & Creme,
The Buckinghams,
The Barracudas,
Dave Gahan,
Bang On A Can,
The Skatalites,
Jacob Miller,
David Bowie,
Lyres,
Pagans,
Reuben Wilson,
EPMD,
Brothers Johnson,
X-Ray Spex,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mummies,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jerry's Kids,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
the Slits,
Crooked Eye,
Grauzone,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.