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 Italy and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Sam Rivers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
The Walker Brothers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Piero Umiliani,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultimate Spinach,
T.S.O.L.,
Morten Harket,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Scratch Acid,
Todd Rundgren,
Marmalade,
Warsaw,
D'Angelo,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Move,
China Crisis,
The Techniques,
Jesper Dahlback,
Skarface,
Hardrive,
Danielle Patucci,
Cal Tjader,
The New Christs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Yaz,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Monolake,
In Retrospect,
Swell Maps,
Public Image Ltd.,
Archie Shepp,
Arthur Verocai,
The Mummies,
Moebius,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Heaven 17,
Boogie Down Productions,
Slave,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Siglo XX,
Das Ding,
Rekid,
Tom Boy,
Junior Murvin,
Thompson Twins,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rotary Connection,
The Remains,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Judy Mowatt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Television Personalities,
Arab on Radar,
Frankie Knuckles,
Country Teasers,
Amazonics,
Jacob Miller,
Brand Nubian,
Kenny Larkin,
The Kinks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu, Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu.
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.