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 Guatemala and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Pantaleimon to the funk 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 The Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Panda Bear tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobby Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Easy Going,
Das Ding,
The Monochrome Set,
The Angels of Light,
The Five Americans,
The Slackers,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Starr,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
One Last Wish,
The Zeros,
Black Pus,
The Doors,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ossler,
Schoolly D,
T. Rex,
Donny Hathaway,
Niagra,
ABBA,
Cluster,
The Buckinghams,
Eddi Front,
Theoretical Girls,
The Techniques,
The Happenings,
Funky Four + One,
Pierre Henry,
The Gladiators,
Tim Buckley,
Siglo XX,
The Shadows of Knight,
Albert Ayler,
the Association,
Barrington Levy,
The Evens,
Excepter,
David Axelrod,
Quadrant,
Duran Duran,
The Cure,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
China Crisis,
Aural Exciters,
Spoonie Gee,
The Names,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Loose Ends,
Marvin Gaye,
Rosa Yemen,
Heaven 17,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fugs,
Bush Tetras,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.