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 Ireland and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The American Breed to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Traffic Nightmare,
Pantytec,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Tom Boy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Residents,
Minnie Riperton,
The Gladiators,
Byron Stingily,
Franke,
The Dirtbombs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Coltrane,
Eve St. Jones,
June of 44,
The Sonics,
The Moody Blues,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Pus,
Stetsasonic,
Sun Ra,
Rosa Yemen,
Depeche Mode,
Barbara Tucker,
Jerry's Kids,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
La Düsseldorf,
Brass Construction,
R.M.O.,
Gang of Four,
Joyce Sims,
Audionom,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The New Christs,
Parry Music,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Slick Rick,
Man Parrish,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Thee Headcoats,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Terry Callier,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mojo Men,
Dual Sessions,
Agitation Free,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Lakeside,
Arab on Radar,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aswad,
Scientists,
Pierre Henry,
Inner City,
The Last Poets,
The Divine Comedy,
OOIOO,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.