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 Jordan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 clarinet 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 Ponytail to the rap 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
Jimmy McGriff,
Zapp,
Quando Quango,
Khruangbin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Qualms,
Thee Headcoats,
Susan Cadogan,
kango's stein massive,
Fat Boys,
The Walker Brothers,
Sarah Menescal,
Minny Pops,
New Order,
New York Dolls,
Sun Ra,
Dennis Brown,
Joy Division,
Make Up,
Young Marble Giants,
Aural Exciters,
The Searchers,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
KRS-One,
the Sonics,
Bluetip,
Barrington Levy,
Iggy Pop,
Subhumans,
Peter & Gordon,
John Coltrane,
Franke,
The Gun Club,
The Smoke,
Lucky Dragons,
H. Thieme,
Kurtis Blow,
Lalo Schifrin,
Spandau Ballet,
Pulsallama,
Roger Hodgson,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Five Americans,
Magazine,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pole,
Unwound,
The Beau Brummels,
Babytalk,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lyres,
Peter and Kerry,
Harry Pussy,
Animal Collective,
The Motions,
The Associates,
Trumans Water,
Reuben Wilson,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dead C,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.