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 South Africa and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Laurel Aitken to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liliput record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
Sister Nancy,
Whodini,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rosa Yemen,
Nick Fraelich,
Rekid,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Names,
Bauhaus,
Bobby Sherman,
Massinfluence,
Pantaleimon,
Public Enemy,
The Saints,
The Dirtbombs,
China Crisis,
The Five Americans,
Ken Boothe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Trojans,
Robert Wyatt,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Rundgren,
Donald Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
Brothers Johnson,
Index,
Smog,
Connie Case,
Parry Music,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sugar Minott,
The Move,
The Electric Prunes,
Vainqueur,
June Days,
The Pretty Things,
The Toasters,
The Barracudas,
Zero Boys,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ludus,
Archie Shepp,
Minor Threat,
Y Pants,
Ultra Naté,
Circle Jerks,
Bluetip,
Robert Hood,
The Velvet Underground,
Quadrant,
Pagans,
Curtis Mayfield,
Faraquet,
Roger Hodgson,
Todd Terry,
Q65,
Grandmaster Flash,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.