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 Laos and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1973 at the first Television 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 Deepchord to the jazz 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Camberwell Now,
Girls At Our Best!,
AZ,
Scan 7,
Robert Hood,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fortunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Victims,
Amon Düül II,
Panda Bear,
The Dead C,
Deadbeat,
K-Klass,
June Days,
Janne Schatter,
Suicide,
Pussy Galore,
10cc,
The Names,
Kevin Saunderson,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marc Almond,
The Sonics,
Drexciya,
Funky Four + One,
Basic Channel,
The Music Machine,
Stereo Dub,
Rekid,
Neil Young,
The Leaves,
Johnny Clarke,
Vainqueur,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Slits,
Technova,
Fugazi,
La Düsseldorf,
Aaron Thompson,
Babytalk,
Q and Not U,
Jeff Mills,
Boogie Down Productions,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Althea and Donna,
David McCallum,
Symarip,
Traffic Nightmare,
Make Up,
Rakim,
Bootsy Collins,
Cybotron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Whodini,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mission of Burma,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.