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 Czech Republic and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Kenny Larkin to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Black Dice,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Human League,
Desert Stars,
Rekid,
Gang of Four,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Vogues,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Mojo Men,
The Leaves,
Little Man,
Half Japanese,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fugs,
Slave,
The Electric Prunes,
Tres Demented,
Mad Mike,
Section 25,
Ice-T,
The Sonics,
The Cowsills,
The Golliwogs,
Marc Almond,
Michelle Simonal,
48th St. Collective,
The Searchers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Theoretical Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Duran Duran,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Misunderstood,
Monks,
Cal Tjader,
Y Pants,
Essential Logic,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gil Scott Heron,
Brick,
Ultra Naté,
The Gories,
The Sound,
Brand Nubian,
Eli Mardock,
The New Christs,
Eric Dolphy,
Groovy Waters,
H. Thieme,
Ronan,
the Bar-Kays,
Shoche,
the Association,
Joe Smooth,
Joyce Sims,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.