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 Kuwait and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Radio Birdman to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Sight & Sound,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
F. McDonald,
The Standells,
Bob Dylan,
The J.B.'s,
Lakeside,
Quantec,
Angry Samoans,
Television,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gang Starr,
kango's stein massive,
In Retrospect,
Andrew Hill,
Little Man,
AZ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Barracudas,
Country Teasers,
Fatback Band,
Rapeman,
Severed Heads,
Lalann,
Masters at Work,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wally Richardson,
Eve St. Jones,
Skarface,
Monks,
Sam Rivers,
Clear Light,
Gichy Dan,
Brick,
Nils Olav,
John Holt,
Skriet,
Connie Case,
Max Romeo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marmalade,
The Fall,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Section 25,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bill Wells,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerri Chandler,
Model 500,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Joyce Sims,
The Wake,
Joy Division,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Wolf Eyes,
Kayak,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.