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 Georgia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb 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 Eric B and Rakim to the techno 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Machine,
Von Mondo,
cv313,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bob Dylan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Schoolly D,
Deadbeat,
Kerri Chandler,
Scion,
Johnny Clarke,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Second Layer,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Depeche Mode,
The Black Dice,
Qualms,
Harpers Bizarre,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fatback Band,
Smog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barbara Tucker,
New Order,
Jandek,
Minnie Riperton,
Make Up,
Fluxion,
48th St. Collective,
The Moody Blues,
Man Parrish,
Babytalk,
the Association,
Los Fastidios,
Livin' Joy,
Pierre Henry,
Motorama,
The Grass Roots,
John Foxx,
The Count Five,
Anakelly,
Skriet,
Isaac Hayes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Popol Vuh,
Stetsasonic,
Althea and Donna,
the Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Alphaville,
The Remains,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
Mr. Review,
MC5,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.