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 Botswana and from Bologna.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 arpeggiator 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 Jacques Brel to the dance 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Dirtbombs,
The Five Americans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Japan,
Amon Düül II,
KRS-One,
Arab on Radar,
Nation of Ulysses,
Lungfish,
T. Rex,
The Knickerbockers,
The Gun Club,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Gories,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oblivians,
China Crisis,
Fat Boys,
Warren Ellis,
Al Stewart,
Eden Ahbez,
Can,
Shuggie Otis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Skatalites,
The Cowsills,
Echospace,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jandek,
The Tremeloes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rakim,
Malaria!,
Don Cherry,
The Fortunes,
Gang Starr,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minnie Riperton,
The Buckinghams,
Jeff Lynne,
Heaven 17,
the Fania All-Stars,
World's Most,
Crooked Eye,
Outsiders,
Laurel Aitken,
June of 44,
Eric Dolphy,
Reuben Wilson,
Quantec,
Flash Fearless,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gladiators,
Gichy Dan,
Stiv Bators,
New Age Steppers,
U.S. Maple,
AZ,
The Birthday Party,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.