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 Syria and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Banda Bassotti tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zero Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sonics,
Reuben Wilson,
B.T. Express,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The New Christs,
Joe Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
In Retrospect,
Roxette,
The Buckinghams,
Oblivians,
Bad Manners,
Talk Talk,
Second Layer,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hasil Adkins,
Pylon,
Scientists,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barbara Tucker,
Tomorrow,
AZ,
Lucky Dragons,
David Bowie,
Eve St. Jones,
Lightning Bolt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dual Sessions,
Marvin Gaye,
The Monks,
Althea and Donna,
Black Pus,
The Residents,
Donald Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Monochrome Set,
Ice-T,
Sarah Menescal,
Eli Mardock,
The Five Americans,
The Saints,
Scan 7,
Underground Resistance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ralphi Rosario,
D'Angelo,
Jeff Mills,
Hardrive,
Fad Gadget,
Tim Buckley,
Harry Pussy,
Rufus Thomas,
Von Mondo,
Flipper,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mojo Men,
Roy Ayers,
Moebius,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.