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 Israel and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Misunderstood to the grunge 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 Cure. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Patti Smith,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Big Daddy Kane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Loose Ends,
R.M.O.,
T.S.O.L.,
The Wake,
B.T. Express,
Eric Dolphy,
James White and The Blacks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Junior Murvin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Agent Orange,
Infiniti,
The Cramps,
Accadde A,
Surgeon,
Roxy Music,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
X-101,
Lalann,
New Order,
Liliput,
Bobby Womack,
Eurythmics,
the Fania All-Stars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tim Buckley,
Crash Course in Science,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ituana,
Porter Ricks,
Camouflage,
Boredoms,
Ohio Players,
Rosa Yemen,
Adolescents,
Rapeman,
Neil Young,
Nick Fraelich,
The Move,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deadbeat,
The Dirtbombs,
DJ Sneak,
The Remains,
Sex Pistols,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Andrew Hill,
Suburban Knight,
Black Pus,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Last Poets,
cv313,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.