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 Mongolia and from Mexico City.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Moebius to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Roxy Music,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rites of Spring,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Smiths,
Flash Fearless,
Lou Christie,
David McCallum,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ice-T,
K-Klass,
Pylon,
Inner City,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Joensuu 1685,
Jeff Mills,
June Days,
The Raincoats,
Warren Ellis,
the Bar-Kays,
Procol Harum,
Bang On A Can,
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
48th St. Collective,
ABC,
Ituana,
Eve St. Jones,
Terrestrial Tones,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wasted Youth,
Nas,
Shuggie Otis,
The Smoke,
Crispian St. Peters,
10cc,
Au Pairs,
Hashim,
Bronski Beat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sexual Harrassment,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Misunderstood,
Flipper,
Little Man,
Eddi Front,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lightning Bolt,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scott Walker,
DNA,
Buzzcocks,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Skatalites,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nico,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.