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 Iran and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 It's A Beautiful Day to the jazz 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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
B.T. Express,
The American Breed,
Smog,
Jawbox,
Althea and Donna,
X-101,
Easy Going,
Grey Daturas,
Hashim,
The Gories,
Susan Cadogan,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amazonics,
Magma,
Adolescents,
The J.B.'s,
Alison Limerick,
Prince Buster,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Section 25,
Flamin' Groovies,
Schoolly D,
Zero Boys,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Red Krayola,
The Vogues,
Shuggie Otis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Wings,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ice-T,
Cameo,
Shoche,
Marvin Gaye,
Roger Hodgson,
FM Einheit,
Cybotron,
Scott Walker,
The Fall,
Agitation Free,
The Raincoats,
The Fuzztones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Terry Callier,
Kurtis Blow,
Pierre Henry,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
K-Klass,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Graham Central Station,
Skriet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
The Toasters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lower 48,
Tom Boy,
Minny Pops,
Alice Coltrane,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.