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 Mexico and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lucky Dragons to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Todd Rundgren tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 American Breed,
Bang On A Can,
the Human League,
Byron Stingily,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
ABBA,
Marine Girls,
Gregory Isaacs,
Con Funk Shun,
Fugazi,
Eddi Front,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Al Stewart,
The Fall,
Stereo Dub,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Slick Rick,
Roy Ayers,
Robert Wyatt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Chris & Cosey,
The J.B.'s,
Carl Craig,
Wire,
Terry Callier,
Second Layer,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bauhaus,
Newcleus,
The Techniques,
Lyres,
Blake Baxter,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Music Machine,
Kerrie Biddell,
K-Klass,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Fraelich,
Glenn Branca,
The Red Krayola,
The Golliwogs,
DJ Sneak,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Angry Samoans,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Cymande,
Massinfluence,
MDC,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
The Walker Brothers,
Depeche Mode,
Danielle Patucci,
E-Dancer,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron, Terror Squad Feat. Camron.
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.