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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 marimba 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 Byron Stingily to the disco 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spoonie Gee,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Sherman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fear,
David Bowie,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dawn Penn,
The United States of America,
The Victims,
Oblivians,
Bad Manners,
Rosa Yemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gun Club,
Terrestrial Tones,
Smog,
Magazine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mandrill,
The Residents,
F. McDonald,
Arthur Verocai,
Panda Bear,
Ultra Naté,
T.S.O.L.,
Isaac Hayes,
X-101,
The Black Dice,
the Swans,
Gichy Dan,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alphaville,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lakeside,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thompson Twins,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Rites of Spring,
Archie Shepp,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Evens,
Absolute Body Control,
The Stooges,
Soul II Soul,
Y Pants,
Robert Wyatt,
Max Romeo,
Con Funk Shun,
Clear Light,
Shuggie Otis,
Blake Baxter,
Public Enemy,
Cheater Slicks,
Jerry's Kids,
Warsaw,
Thee Headcoats,
Newcleus,
Liliput,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.