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 Indonesia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Robert Hood to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
the Fania All-Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
X-102,
The Fugs,
Deakin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
DJ Style,
Ohio Players,
Underground Resistance,
The Busters,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boredoms,
Jacques Brel,
The Motions,
Beasts of Bourbon,
K-Klass,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Goldenarms,
Gang Starr,
Infiniti,
Agent Orange,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barbara Tucker,
Roxette,
The New Christs,
Anthony Braxton,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Charles Mingus,
Junior Murvin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Von Mondo,
Eric Copeland,
Soft Machine,
Intrusion,
Dawn Penn,
The Golliwogs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Suicide,
Eric Dolphy,
Public Enemy,
Skriet,
Soulsonic Force,
Ronnie Foster,
Isaac Hayes,
Hardrive,
Stockholm Monsters,
Steve Hackett,
Prince Buster,
Warsaw,
Liliput,
The Modern Lovers,
Porter Ricks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ossler,
X-Ray Spex,
Mr. Review,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Hood,
Rod Modell,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.