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 Turkmenistan and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 arpeggiator 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 Severed Heads 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 Moebius. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every China Crisis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Khruangbin,
Roger Hodgson,
Zapp,
Masters at Work,
Funkadelic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Clear Light,
Agent Orange,
Pierre Henry,
Ronnie Foster,
Curtis Mayfield,
Brand Nubian,
The Angels of Light,
Tommy Roe,
The Star Department,
Leonard Cohen,
Bad Manners,
X-101,
The Standells,
The Index,
Nick Fraelich,
Yazoo,
The Velvet Underground,
Marine Girls,
The Doors,
Camouflage,
Johnny Clarke,
Drexciya,
The Gladiators,
Soul Sonic Force,
Easy Going,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fugs,
Bobby Sherman,
Kayak,
Radiohead,
Gong,
Gabor Szabo,
Johnny Osbourne,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joensuu 1685,
David McCallum,
Grauzone,
Hashim,
Black Pus,
Theoretical Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Ohio Players,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Harmonia,
Rekid,
The Electric Prunes,
L. Decosne,
Marvin Gaye,
Albert Ayler,
Maleditus Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
Derrick Morgan,
The Slackers,
The Seeds,
Wire,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.