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 Guinea and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
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 oboe 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 Arthur Verocai to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Hoover. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a guitar 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 rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Joensuu 1685,
Barbara Tucker,
Vainqueur,
Rosa Yemen,
Shuggie Otis,
Warsaw,
Ronnie Foster,
The Remains,
a-ha,
June of 44,
The Dirtbombs,
Oblivians,
The Electric Prunes,
Drive Like Jehu,
Desert Stars,
Altered Images,
CMW,
Michelle Simonal,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Barrington Levy,
Sonny Sharrock,
The United States of America,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Easy Going,
Agitation Free,
Moebius,
Kurtis Blow,
The Associates,
The Skatalites,
Procol Harum,
Stereo Dub,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Dual Sessions,
The Star Department,
Arcadia,
Tears for Fears,
Gabor Szabo,
Massinfluence,
This Heat,
Brothers Johnson,
Kerri Chandler,
Nik Kershaw,
Cheater Slicks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Donny Hathaway,
Aloha Tigers,
Boz Scaggs,
Young Marble Giants,
ABBA,
The Residents,
Minnie Riperton,
Depeche Mode,
The Pop Group,
Robert Wyatt,
The Count Five,
Subhumans,
Radio Birdman,
New Order,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.