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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 Toni Rubio to the grunge 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All Tropical Tobacco tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
Q65,
Brothers Johnson,
Al Stewart,
Bob Dylan,
Unwound,
The Tremeloes,
Chris & Cosey,
Danielle Patucci,
Spoonie Gee,
Tres Demented,
James White and The Blacks,
Shuggie Otis,
Erasure,
Man Parrish,
David McCallum,
A Certain Ratio,
Rosa Yemen,
DJ Sneak,
The Happenings,
Chris Corsano,
D'Angelo,
Sällskapet,
Fear,
Yaz,
The Evens,
Bill Near,
The Standells,
R.M.O.,
E-Dancer,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sonics,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Moss Icon,
Todd Rundgren,
Mo-Dettes,
Procol Harum,
Black Flag,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers,
Graham Central Station,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Bar-Kays,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Anthony Braxton,
Supertramp,
Zapp,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camouflage,
JFA,
Bad Manners,
Popol Vuh,
Rakim,
Half Japanese,
Tropical Tobacco,
F. McDonald,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.