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 Seychelles and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Freddie Wadling to the dance 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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Television,
Nas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barry Ungar,
John Cale,
Vainqueur,
Rapeman,
Erykah Badu,
Colin Newman,
The Invisible,
Das Ding,
Gang Starr,
Anthony Braxton,
Fugazi,
Sam Rivers,
Alison Limerick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fall,
Bang On A Can,
Harry Pussy,
Young Marble Giants,
Tim Buckley,
Fad Gadget,
The Music Machine,
Skriet,
Skarface,
Brass Construction,
Soul II Soul,
Wolf Eyes,
CMW,
The Walker Brothers,
Stiv Bators,
the Bar-Kays,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dennis Brown,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Graham Central Station,
DJ Sneak,
U.S. Maple,
The Smoke,
Brothers Johnson,
Sparks,
Main Source,
The Blackbyrds,
Marc Almond,
the Swans,
Roy Ayers,
Lalann,
Soul Sonic Force,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Pussy Galore,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fire Engines,
In Retrospect,
Reuben Wilson,
Bronski Beat,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.