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 Armenia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Teasers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monochrome Set,
Neu!,
Lucky Dragons,
Eli Mardock,
Pharoah Sanders,
D'Angelo,
Skaos,
Tomorrow,
Lindisfarne,
The Real Kids,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eurythmics,
Barry Ungar,
ABC,
The Music Machine,
Mark Hollis,
The Dead C,
the Bar-Kays,
Fugazi,
EPMD,
The Leaves,
Los Fastidios,
Gong,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scan 7,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Remains,
Mr. Review,
Suburban Knight,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Moleskins,
Reuben Wilson,
Porter Ricks,
Minutemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronnie Foster,
Aswad,
The Count Five,
Kevin Saunderson,
Whodini,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pulsallama,
Bootsy Collins,
Mantronix,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dawn Penn,
Donny Hathaway,
Kerri Chandler,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kool Moe Dee,
World's Most,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jacques Brel,
Charles Mingus,
Anthony Braxton,
Albert Ayler,
The Velvet Underground,
ABBA,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.