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 San Marino and from Shanghai.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Dead Boys to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Hasil Adkins,
Morten Harket,
The Trojans,
R.M.O.,
Ultimate Spinach,
Cymande,
The Techniques,
Dawn Penn,
The Slits,
a-ha,
Laurel Aitken,
Neil Young,
The Tremeloes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Loose Ends,
Minnie Riperton,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
H. Thieme,
Circle Jerks,
Popol Vuh,
Half Japanese,
Jacques Brel,
David Bowie,
The Star Department,
Khruangbin,
Mandrill,
the Bar-Kays,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crooked Eye,
Monks,
Don Cherry,
Prince Buster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Soul II Soul,
June of 44,
Sight & Sound,
Terry Callier,
Juan Atkins,
Excepter,
Wolf Eyes,
Derrick May,
Rapeman,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Swell Maps,
Erykah Badu,
The Five Americans,
Sparks,
June Days,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker,
MC5,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fatback Band,
Zapp,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Velvet Underground,
Accadde A,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.