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 Israel and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 harpsichord 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 grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 American Breed. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sugar Minott,
Drexciya,
Absolute Body Control,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Connie Case,
Camberwell Now,
Index,
Half Japanese,
Joensuu 1685,
Derrick Morgan,
John Coltrane,
The Dave Clark Five,
Boredoms,
Surgeon,
Cymande,
The Saints,
The Victims,
Man Parrish,
Rekid,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Aloha Tigers,
Aaron Thompson,
K-Klass,
Symarip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Infiniti,
The Toasters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Monks,
Parry Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sandy B,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dark Day,
Smog,
Anthony Braxton,
The Tremeloes,
Dual Sessions,
The Busters,
Hot Snakes,
The Cure,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fortunes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Groovy Waters,
Minnie Riperton,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Das Ding,
the Fania All-Stars,
Simply Red,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
E-Dancer,
Harpers Bizarre,
One Last Wish,
Interpol,
Banda Bassotti,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Funkadelic,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.