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 Thailand and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Niagra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Half Japanese,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tropical Tobacco,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Bananas,
The Five Americans,
Masters at Work,
Jacob Miller,
Eric Dolphy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Anakelly,
The Smoke,
The Tremeloes,
The Knickerbockers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Fuzztones,
The Neon Judgement,
Funky Four + One,
Rekid,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Oneida,
The Smiths,
Negative Approach,
Danielle Patucci,
the Fania All-Stars,
Chris Corsano,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ohio Players,
Arthur Verocai,
Byron Stingily,
Dead Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Suicide,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
T.S.O.L.,
The Standells,
Nico,
Public Image Ltd.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unwound,
The Human League,
Schoolly D,
Derrick May,
the Sonics,
Quantec,
The Dirtbombs,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Blackbyrds,
Y Pants,
June of 44,
Curtis Mayfield,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New York Dolls,
The Mummies,
These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls, These Immortal Souls.
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.