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 Lebanon and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Shadows of Knight to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
Amon Düül II,
Scan 7,
Max Romeo,
Faust,
The Fugs,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maurizio,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Danielle Patucci,
Stockholm Monsters,
Suicide,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Oneida,
Warsaw,
The Divine Comedy,
Groovy Waters,
Sun Ra,
The Modern Lovers,
Pole,
Dead Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Bauhaus,
David Bowie,
Fela Kuti,
T. Rex,
Desert Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
Aural Exciters,
Can,
The Red Krayola,
Absolute Body Control,
X-101,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Soul II Soul,
The Happenings,
Robert Hood,
Maleditus Sound,
Minutemen,
Robert Wyatt,
Zero Boys,
Urselle,
Michelle Simonal,
Siglo XX,
The Monochrome Set,
Q65,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nirvana,
Terry Callier,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pet Shop Boys,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Clear Light,
Buzzcocks,
Hot Snakes,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.