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 Iraq and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the grime 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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Skatalites record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Al Stewart,
Technova,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Severed Heads,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Hardrive,
Make Up,
Camberwell Now,
Bang On A Can,
Matthew Bourne,
Talk Talk,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris Corsano,
Liliput,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lucky Dragons,
H. Thieme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Godley & Creme,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jawbox,
Das Ding,
The Remains,
Alphaville,
The Mummies,
Big Daddy Kane,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Fraelich,
Harry Pussy,
The Gories,
Drexciya,
Q65,
Blancmange,
Saccharine Trust,
The Names,
Alton Ellis,
Mad Mike,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Hill,
Suburban Knight,
Laurel Aitken,
Bob Dylan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Golliwogs,
Jeff Lynne,
Connie Case,
Bizarre Inc.,
EPMD,
Harpers Bizarre,
Flipper,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lalo Schifrin,
Funky Four + One,
Brand Nubian,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.