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 Somalia and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxette 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minnie Riperton,
Niagra,
The Fortunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rapeman,
Lalann,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Flag,
Amon Düül II,
H. Thieme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wings,
The Real Kids,
Joe Smooth,
Lou Christie,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Television,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minor Threat,
Gang Starr,
Bobby Sherman,
Graham Central Station,
UT,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lalo Schifrin,
Josef K,
Lou Reed,
Bronski Beat,
Jandek,
The Divine Comedy,
Organ,
Radio Birdman,
Connie Case,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sam Rivers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bauhaus,
Arab on Radar,
Siglo XX,
Piero Umiliani,
Ice-T,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Quando Quango,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Royal Trux,
The Gun Club,
Albert Ayler,
Groovy Waters,
The Victims,
The Wake,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric Copeland,
Simply Red,
Buzzcocks,
Roy Ayers,
Tom Boy,
Quantec,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.