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 Thailand and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Girls At Our Best! to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All Nik Kershaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Los Fastidios record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Janne Schatter,
Crash Course in Science,
Nick Fraelich,
Stereo Dub,
Sun City Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Rufus Thomas,
Motorama,
The Buckinghams,
Gerry Rafferty,
Danielle Patucci,
Tres Demented,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Make Up,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The J.B.'s,
Soul II Soul,
Heaven 17,
F. McDonald,
The Move,
Man Parrish,
Bang On A Can,
Archie Shepp,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Slackers,
Fluxion,
Ronan,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cure,
Kurtis Blow,
Big Daddy Kane,
48th St. Collective,
Althea and Donna,
Radiopuhelimet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The United States of America,
Bronski Beat,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kenny Larkin,
Dual Sessions,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camberwell Now,
Anthony Braxton,
The Sonics,
Kayak,
The Litter,
Colin Newman,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Motions,
Reuben Wilson,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Mars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Spandau Ballet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Dead C,
Cluster,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.