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 United States and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crooked Eye to the dance 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Andrew Hill,
The Cramps,
Essential Logic,
The Last Poets,
Shoche,
Soft Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Jawbox,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fuzztones,
Echospace,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Laurel Aitken,
Scan 7,
The New Christs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Jeru the Damaja,
Tubeway Army,
Guru Guru,
Minny Pops,
Heaven 17,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Talk Talk,
Neil Young,
Tommy Roe,
Basic Channel,
The Sonics,
PIL,
Au Pairs,
Duran Duran,
Radiohead,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sex Pistols,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Subhumans,
Bobby Byrd,
The Modern Lovers,
The Neon Judgement,
Khruangbin,
The Martian,
Funky Four + One,
Easy Going,
Johnny Osbourne,
Skaos,
Fluxion,
Ronnie Foster,
Donny Hathaway,
Shuggie Otis,
Patti Smith,
Chris Corsano,
Girls At Our Best!,
Brothers Johnson,
Rekid,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Michelle Simonal,
Henry Cow,
Gregory Isaacs,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.