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 India and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family to the techno 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Zapp,
Radiohead,
The Toasters,
Hardrive,
Joe Smooth,
Livin' Joy,
Morten Harket,
Jesper Dahlback,
Avey Tare,
Hot Snakes,
Toni Rubio,
Aaron Thompson,
Charles Mingus,
Pierre Henry,
Technova,
Stiv Bators,
Ituana,
Janne Schatter,
Moby Grape,
Electric Prunes,
The Knickerbockers,
Brothers Johnson,
Half Japanese,
X-101,
MC5,
Lee Hazlewood,
The American Breed,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultravox,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Soul II Soul,
Symarip,
Surgeon,
The Divine Comedy,
Adolescents,
Altered Images,
R.M.O.,
Panda Bear,
Oneida,
Pantytec,
The Misunderstood,
Animal Collective,
The J.B.'s,
kango's stein massive,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Durutti Column,
The Cramps,
Spandau Ballet,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Model 500,
Negative Approach,
Sugar Minott,
Saccharine Trust,
Thee Headcoats,
Boz Scaggs,
Bobby Byrd,
The Stooges,
Maleditus Sound,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.