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 Bhutan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
The Evens,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Move,
Simply Red,
Cymande,
Public Enemy,
Gastr Del Sol,
La Düsseldorf,
Procol Harum,
Deepchord,
Barbara Tucker,
Juan Atkins,
X-102,
Ponytail,
One Last Wish,
Kayak,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Spandau Ballet,
Todd Rundgren,
Jimmy McGriff,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Parry Music,
Crispian St. Peters,
Los Fastidios,
Kaleidoscope,
Talk Talk,
Unrelated Segments,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Searchers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ohio Players,
Michelle Simonal,
Jeff Mills,
Drexciya,
Reagan Youth,
Jerry's Kids,
Aaron Thompson,
Tim Buckley,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Detroit Cobras,
Depeche Mode,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The New Christs,
Goldenarms,
Fatback Band,
Zero Boys,
Wolf Eyes,
Interpol,
Josef K,
Make Up,
Lou Reed,
Half Japanese,
Donald Byrd,
The Fire Engines,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.