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 Equatorial Guinea and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 rhodes 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 DNA to the grunge 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joyce Sims,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Radiohead,
The Fugs,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
K-Klass,
The Red Krayola,
Nik Kershaw,
Mandrill,
These Immortal Souls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sonics,
The Kinks,
John Lydon,
Guru Guru,
T. Rex,
Clear Light,
Bobby Byrd,
Mr. Review,
Intrusion,
John Coltrane,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Inner City,
Section 25,
The Names,
The Mummies,
Sam Rivers,
Dead Boys,
The Litter,
Marcia Griffiths,
David McCallum,
Yazoo,
Bad Manners,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Stooges,
Unwound,
Brothers Johnson,
The Star Department,
Josef K,
Newcleus,
Barclay James Harvest,
Joey Negro,
The Fortunes,
E-Dancer,
Todd Rundgren,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Tears for Fears,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Slave,
Leonard Cohen,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Sherman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Oneida,
The Slackers,
Joensuu 1685,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.