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 Sweden and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 rhodes 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 Oneida to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 X-Ray Spex. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Golliwogs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Grey Daturas,
Procol Harum,
Brand Nubian,
E-Dancer,
Zapp,
The Selecter,
Eurythmics,
Lou Reed,
Skarface,
Electric Prunes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
Cheater Slicks,
Loose Ends,
Guru Guru,
H. Thieme,
Aaron Thompson,
Rotary Connection,
The Flesh Eaters,
This Heat,
Grauzone,
Lightning Bolt,
The Vogues,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aswad,
Drexciya,
Average White Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Freddie Wadling,
Anakelly,
Porter Ricks,
Rapeman,
Whodini,
Stereo Dub,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Offenders,
Blancmange,
Robert Hood,
The Alarm Clocks,
Gregory Isaacs,
Josef K,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Theoretical Girls,
Bill Wells,
Nas,
Fear,
Hoover,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yusef Lateef,
Aural Exciters,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Bluetip,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sam Rivers,
Amon Düül,
Easy Going,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.