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 Iceland and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Kinks to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Man Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Q65,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roxy Music,
Los Fastidios,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Motions,
Skarface,
Pet Shop Boys,
Marcia Griffiths,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Model 500,
The Fugs,
Ice-T,
Crispy Ambulance,
Hashim,
Faust,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Red Krayola,
the Normal,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Monks,
Audionom,
Joensuu 1685,
Soft Machine,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ituana,
The Saints,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David Bowie,
R.M.O.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Victims,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wally Richardson,
Kas Product,
Sam Rivers,
David Axelrod,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Livin' Joy,
Tim Buckley,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Goldenarms,
Fear,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bang On A Can,
Accadde A,
Soul Sonic Force,
Parry Music,
Suicide,
The Leaves,
Black Sheep,
Warsaw,
Jeru the Damaja,
Freddie Wadling,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.