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 Tanzania and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Doobie Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quadrant record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalann,
Donny Hathaway,
Little Man,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Glenn Branca,
The Buckinghams,
Niagra,
Mantronix,
OOIOO,
Lightning Bolt,
Mark Hollis,
Flash Fearless,
Jacob Miller,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lucky Dragons,
Lindisfarne,
Reuben Wilson,
The Wake,
Joyce Sims,
Qualms,
Ornette Coleman,
Unrelated Segments,
Lyres,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Copeland,
Mandrill,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Q65,
F. McDonald,
Heaven 17,
Excepter,
Underground Resistance,
Connie Case,
Index,
The Index,
The Saints,
Ituana,
Sight & Sound,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Kinks,
EPMD,
Vainqueur,
Skriet,
the Sonics,
ABC,
Archie Shepp,
Bush Tetras,
Minny Pops,
Jeff Lynne,
Joy Division,
Adolescents,
Simply Red,
Don Cherry,
Leonard Cohen,
X-Ray Spex,
Dead Boys,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.