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 Kuwait and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Houston.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Donny Hathaway 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blues Magoos record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Depeche Mode,
B.T. Express,
Jandek,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aaron Thompson,
Loose Ends,
Alphaville,
Barrington Levy,
L. Decosne,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roger Hodgson,
Idris Muhammad,
Harmonia,
Monks,
The Kinks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
48th St. Collective,
Ornette Coleman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Sheep,
Alton Ellis,
The Fugs,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Velvet Underground,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kurtis Blow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bluetip,
Scion,
Danielle Patucci,
Alison Limerick,
Crispian St. Peters,
The J.B.'s,
Pagans,
The New Christs,
a-ha,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hasil Adkins,
Pole,
Cymande,
Japan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Laurel Aitken,
PIL,
The Knickerbockers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
These Immortal Souls,
The Slits,
Duran Duran,
Deepchord,
Suburban Knight,
Bang On A Can,
Schoolly D,
Supertramp,
Tropical Tobacco,
Skaos,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Albert Ayler,
Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron, Louis and Bebe Barron.
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.