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 Pakistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Underground Resistance to the funk 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Lakeside,
Nas,
Gang Green,
MDC,
Cluster,
Moss Icon,
Pagans,
Letta Mbulu,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
the Human League,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boz Scaggs,
Porter Ricks,
Lungfish,
Joe Finger,
JFA,
Soul II Soul,
Morten Harket,
The Count Five,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
EPMD,
Johnny Osbourne,
Erasure,
Beasts of Bourbon,
DJ Sneak,
Anthony Braxton,
Sun City Girls,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cecil Taylor,
Saccharine Trust,
the Swans,
Brothers Johnson,
Scrapy,
New York Dolls,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Toasters,
Marine Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Gong,
Siglo XX,
The Names,
Yaz,
Public Image Ltd.,
Derrick Morgan,
Pulsallama,
AZ,
the Bar-Kays,
Los Fastidios,
Bobby Byrd,
Bad Manners,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Shadows of Knight,
June of 44,
Brass Construction,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Fela Kuti,
Theoretical Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Shuggie Otis,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.