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 Russia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 Copenhagen and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the 808 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 Agent Orange to the dance 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Suicide,
Don Cherry,
The Searchers,
The Wake,
Camberwell Now,
Underground Resistance,
The Blackbyrds,
Roxette,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
ABC,
Spoonie Gee,
Altered Images,
The Saints,
Black Flag,
Leonard Cohen,
Susan Cadogan,
The Last Poets,
Pierre Henry,
The Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barrington Levy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Motions,
Lindisfarne,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Black Dice,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Yazoo,
The Cure,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Alison Limerick,
Boz Scaggs,
Harmonia,
Khruangbin,
Arab on Radar,
Smog,
The Remains,
Peter & Gordon,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eric Dolphy,
Negative Approach,
Scan 7,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance,
Country Teasers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Pussy Galore,
Second Layer,
Shoche,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Mummies,
The Velvet Underground,
The Slits,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Move,
The Fortunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Neil Young,
Robert Hood,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.