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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 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 Lebanon Hanover to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Pussy Galore,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fugazi,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Von Mondo,
Carl Craig,
Rotary Connection,
Q65,
Nirvana,
The Fortunes,
Warsaw,
Gil Scott Heron,
Pylon,
The Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Harry Pussy,
Minnie Riperton,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
OOIOO,
Scratch Acid,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sun City Girls,
The Young Rascals,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sonic Youth,
Sun Ra,
Quando Quango,
Pagans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jacob Miller,
Can,
The Gladiators,
Pere Ubu,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Interpol,
The Red Krayola,
Shuggie Otis,
Massinfluence,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fuzztones,
Johnny Clarke,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Black Dice,
Flipper,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joe Finger,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
Eurythmics,
EPMD,
Little Man,
Suicide,
Accadde A,
Y Pants,
Patti Smith,
A Flock of Seagulls,
These Immortal Souls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.