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 Azerbaijan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the snare 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 Mad Mike to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Tomorrow,
R.M.O.,
Bauhaus,
Flamin' Groovies,
Frankie Knuckles,
DJ Sneak,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rites of Spring,
This Heat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eurythmics,
The Doobie Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Davy DMX,
Zapp,
K-Klass,
New Age Steppers,
Supertramp,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David Axelrod,
Cheater Slicks,
The Misunderstood,
Schoolly D,
Infiniti,
Sam Rivers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
B.T. Express,
Joy Division,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Alphaville,
Isaac Hayes,
Wire,
Sixth Finger,
Eli Mardock,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sound Behaviour,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Searchers,
Easy Going,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Newcleus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
UT,
the Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
Gregory Isaacs,
Soft Cell,
Laurel Aitken,
New Order,
Dawn Penn,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Standells,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Buckinghams,
Nils Olav,
The Techniques,
Oblivians,
Nirvana,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.