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 Vanuatu and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band to the crunk 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Faraquet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Charles Mingus,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Neon Judgement,
Blancmange,
Kayak,
The Happenings,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fluxion,
Groovy Waters,
Con Funk Shun,
Infiniti,
This Heat,
Porter Ricks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mandrill,
Royal Trux,
Frankie Knuckles,
Maleditus Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Doors,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Symarip,
Intrusion,
La Düsseldorf,
Guru Guru,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kerrie Biddell,
Au Pairs,
Minor Threat,
L. Decosne,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Donald Byrd,
The Cosmic Jokers,
H. Thieme,
Funkadelic,
Technova,
The Dead C,
DJ Style,
Nation of Ulysses,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Subhumans,
Morten Harket,
Sex Pistols,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Nik Kershaw,
Davy DMX,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Warren Ellis,
Rekid,
Yellowson,
Monks,
The Birthday Party,
Andrew Hill,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.