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 Ivory Coast and from London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Severed Heads to the techno 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Don Cherry,
Bluetip,
Rod Modell,
The Moleskins,
The Stooges,
Lou Reed,
Drive Like Jehu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Human League,
The Busters,
The Victims,
a-ha,
Blake Baxter,
Hashim,
Joe Smooth,
Pole,
Popol Vuh,
B.T. Express,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Mad Mike,
Scott Walker,
Sam Rivers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pere Ubu,
Animal Collective,
Darondo,
The Divine Comedy,
Q and Not U,
The Golliwogs,
The Pretty Things,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Funkadelic,
The New Christs,
Boz Scaggs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scion,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pierre Henry,
Dennis Brown,
Roger Hodgson,
Radiohead,
Johnny Clarke,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sister Nancy,
Hasil Adkins,
Con Funk Shun,
Sandy B,
Brand Nubian,
Gang Green,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tomorrow,
Yellowson,
Roxette,
Mantronix,
One Last Wish,
Cybotron,
Zapp,
Second Layer,
Jacques Brel,
cv313,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.