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 Haiti and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 linndrum 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 Joe Finger to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Index. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Sherman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
The Last Poets,
Sixth Finger,
Malaria!,
Scrapy,
Barbara Tucker,
Matthew Bourne,
Funkadelic,
Parry Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Saccharine Trust,
Tears for Fears,
Metal Thangz,
Lucky Dragons,
The Evens,
Pagans,
The Sonics,
Moebius,
Bill Near,
Kool Moe Dee,
Quadrant,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Derrick Morgan,
Roxy Music,
The Cowsills,
Animal Collective,
B.T. Express,
Sun City Girls,
Morten Harket,
Boz Scaggs,
Funky Four + One,
Neu!,
The Residents,
Joey Negro,
PIL,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
DNA,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
T.S.O.L.,
Altered Images,
New Order,
Swans,
Hot Snakes,
Agitation Free,
Blossom Toes,
Pere Ubu,
Royal Trux,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Angels of Light,
Ituana,
Yazoo,
Soft Machine,
Delta 5,
Reagan Youth,
Marmalade,
Ice-T,
T. Rex,
Zapp,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.