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 Peru and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 guitar 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 Kinks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
The Knickerbockers,
Mars,
K-Klass,
Excepter,
Warren Ellis,
DJ Style,
Jandek,
Boogie Down Productions,
Chris Corsano,
X-102,
Boredoms,
Rosa Yemen,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Seeds,
Khruangbin,
Don Cherry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bang On A Can,
Whodini,
Todd Rundgren,
Qualms,
Oneida,
Hashim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Gladiators,
Crime,
Nils Olav,
Radio Birdman,
David Axelrod,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eve St. Jones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
X-101,
Mr. Review,
Tim Buckley,
Boz Scaggs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
FM Einheit,
The Sonics,
The Moody Blues,
B.T. Express,
Quadrant,
R.M.O.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
the Germs,
Symarip,
Black Flag,
Lakeside,
Magma,
Vladislav Delay,
KRS-One,
The Velvet Underground,
Robert Görl,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Human League,
Cal Tjader,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.