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 Marshall Islands and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 snare 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the dance 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
a-ha,
Gichy Dan,
Royal Trux,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dead C,
Pierre Henry,
Maurizio,
Yaz,
Eric Copeland,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
Patti Smith,
Funky Four + One,
Freddie Wadling,
Talk Talk,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Loose Ends,
Unwound,
Zapp,
Mo-Dettes,
Deepchord,
Symarip,
La Düsseldorf,
Brand Nubian,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Flag,
Jerry's Kids,
Prince Buster,
Drexciya,
Babytalk,
Erykah Badu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Bobby Sherman,
Pylon,
Neu!,
Basic Channel,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Henry Cow,
Angry Samoans,
Roxette,
Smog,
Chris Corsano,
Mr. Review,
Radiohead,
Faust,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gregory Isaacs,
Man Eating Sloth,
World's Most,
Bush Tetras,
Kenny Larkin,
The Doors,
Josef K,
The Last Poets,
Lungfish,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.