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 Laos and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Trumans Water to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Byron Stingily,
Sight & Sound,
Smog,
OOIOO,
Lou Christie,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fortunes,
L. Decosne,
Laurel Aitken,
Zero Boys,
Royal Trux,
Toni Rubio,
D'Angelo,
Excepter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ornette Coleman,
Glambeats Corp.,
Iggy Pop,
The Trojans,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Goldenarms,
Main Source,
Fatback Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Camouflage,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rufus Thomas,
Nils Olav,
Joy Division,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Colin Newman,
Oneida,
Lyres,
Drive Like Jehu,
Slick Rick,
Nas,
Rosa Yemen,
Eddi Front,
Scan 7,
Freddie Wadling,
Second Layer,
ABBA,
The Beau Brummels,
Rites of Spring,
the Soft Cell,
Qualms,
Big Daddy Kane,
Accadde A,
Angry Samoans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Residents,
The Selecter,
Terry Callier,
Deepchord,
The Smiths,
The Pop Group,
B.T. Express,
In Retrospect,
Black Moon,
Mark Hollis,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.