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 Macedonia and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 chamberlin 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Colin Newman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
X-102,
Derrick Morgan,
The Vogues,
Procol Harum,
Grauzone,
Barbara Tucker,
Skarface,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
MC5,
Ronnie Foster,
Ohio Players,
Donny Hathaway,
Pierre Henry,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gichy Dan,
Average White Band,
Depeche Mode,
F. McDonald,
Deepchord,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fluxion,
Boz Scaggs,
Mo-Dettes,
Public Enemy,
The Gories,
Sex Pistols,
Scrapy,
Jeff Mills,
Dawn Penn,
New York Dolls,
Sister Nancy,
Jacques Brel,
Lightning Bolt,
Con Funk Shun,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Black Dice,
Blossom Toes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Graham Central Station,
Arab on Radar,
The Blackbyrds,
The Smiths,
The Selecter,
Television Personalities,
Sexual Harrassment,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Almond,
Robert Görl,
Monolake,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
Laurel Aitken,
The Angels of Light,
Iggy Pop,
The Monks,
10cc,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Silicon Teens,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.