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 Turkmenistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Bang On A Can to the crunk 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 8 Eyed Spy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul II Soul,
Rod Modell,
Ralphi Rosario,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Toni Rubio,
Cecil Taylor,
Depeche Mode,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Magazine,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Electric Prunes,
The Smoke,
The Raincoats,
H. Thieme,
Neil Young,
The Five Americans,
FM Einheit,
Scott Walker,
Kenny Larkin,
Rhythm & Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Aloha Tigers,
Stiv Bators,
Hot Snakes,
Warren Ellis,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Public Image Ltd.,
Fat Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eve St. Jones,
T. Rex,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Reuben Wilson,
the Bar-Kays,
the Normal,
Barbara Tucker,
Slick Rick,
John Cale,
The Searchers,
Bush Tetras,
Q65,
Pierre Henry,
Visage,
Bill Wells,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Mills,
Tropical Tobacco,
Amon Düül,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bronski Beat,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Technova,
Nico,
Los Fastidios,
David Axelrod,
The Buckinghams,
Rapeman,
Steve Hackett,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.