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 Swaziland and from Sao Paulo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin 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 The Alarm Clocks to the punk 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 Grandmaster Flash. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crime,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Susan Cadogan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Slick Rick,
The Detroit Cobras,
H. Thieme,
Von Mondo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Duran Duran,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Anthony Braxton,
The Divine Comedy,
Jeff Lynne,
Soft Machine,
AZ,
Organ,
a-ha,
Jesper Dahlback,
Wolf Eyes,
PIL,
Q and Not U,
Camouflage,
Magma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
The Cramps,
Don Cherry,
Tim Buckley,
Sarah Menescal,
The Searchers,
Ohio Players,
Subhumans,
the Normal,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter & Gordon,
Eric Copeland,
Chrome,
Eddi Front,
Roger Hodgson,
The Index,
Scott Walker,
Lungfish,
The Fall,
Sam Rivers,
Thee Headcoats,
Los Fastidios,
Aswad,
The Happenings,
The Standells,
Severed Heads,
Robert Hood,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gerry Rafferty,
Donald Byrd,
Soulsonic Force,
KRS-One,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
World's Most,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.