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 Brunei and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba 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 the Troubador.
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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Hoover,
Terrestrial Tones,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric Copeland,
Marshall Jefferson,
Max Romeo,
Peter and Kerry,
Q and Not U,
Oneida,
Boredoms,
DNA,
Johnny Clarke,
The Saints,
The Angels of Light,
Yusef Lateef,
The Barracudas,
Pierre Henry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Main Source,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scott Walker,
Accadde A,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Outsiders,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Moody Blues,
The Dead C,
Alphaville,
Sound Behaviour,
Jacob Miller,
The Dirtbombs,
Zapp,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Wake,
Black Flag,
David Axelrod,
Q65,
The Doobie Brothers,
Interpol,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Magma,
The United States of America,
Deadbeat,
The Grass Roots,
B.T. Express,
Idris Muhammad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jeff Lynne,
Piero Umiliani,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gong,
Masters at Work,
Amon Düül II,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxy Music,
Nas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Human League,
The Move,
Agent Orange,
Junior Murvin,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.