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 Portugal and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Danielle Patucci to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultravox. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Surgeon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Nas,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Normal,
Jawbox,
Monks,
The Star Department,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Alton Ellis,
Black Moon,
Excepter,
The Residents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wolf Eyes,
Duran Duran,
Soul Sonic Force,
Infiniti,
Eddi Front,
Colin Newman,
Unwound,
Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
Skriet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gong,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Chris Corsano,
The Neon Judgement,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Heaven 17,
Steve Hackett,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sun Ra,
Albert Ayler,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Angry Samoans,
The Last Poets,
Easy Going,
Grauzone,
Clear Light,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bush Tetras,
Donald Byrd,
Lindisfarne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sandy B,
Quando Quango,
Bluetip,
The Sound,
The Trojans,
The Electric Prunes,
Funkadelic,
Japan,
Gang of Four,
T.S.O.L.,
The Kinks,
John Coltrane,
Funky Four + One,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.