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 Moldova and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 48th St. Collective to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Motorama,
Johnny Clarke,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Blancmange,
Ossler,
Trumans Water,
Yellowson,
Quando Quango,
Y Pants,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Music Machine,
Gang of Four,
Eli Mardock,
Hashim,
Agent Orange,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Graham Central Station,
Mantronix,
Porter Ricks,
John Coltrane,
Wire,
The Busters,
Mars,
ABBA,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wolf Eyes,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scion,
Popol Vuh,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Supertramp,
Scientists,
Nico,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nas,
Massinfluence,
Intrusion,
Suburban Knight,
Metal Thangz,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
The United States of America,
Camberwell Now,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Eurythmics,
Fluxion,
Donald Byrd,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Al Stewart,
Youth Brigade,
The Blues Magoos,
Bobby Womack,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Black Dice,
Pagans,
Gastr Del Sol,
kango's stein massive,
R.M.O.,
Amon Düül,
Jesper Dahlback,
Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers, Country Teasers.
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.