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 Czech Republic and from Accra.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
AZ,
Flipper,
Underground Resistance,
Bobby Byrd,
Essential Logic,
Organ,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joey Negro,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Modern Lovers,
Fad Gadget,
Brand Nubian,
Wally Richardson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Slits,
The Evens,
The Mummies,
Lindisfarne,
Accadde A,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Robert Hood,
The Cowsills,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roxette,
John Holt,
Vladislav Delay,
The Buckinghams,
Boz Scaggs,
Blancmange,
The New Christs,
Motorama,
Don Cherry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bob Dylan,
Agent Orange,
Can,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ultravox,
The Monochrome Set,
the Normal,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ponytail,
Newcleus,
Faraquet,
the Swans,
The Pretty Things,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Hasil Adkins,
Toni Rubio,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Ice-T,
FM Einheit,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.