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 Botswana and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 Graham Central Station to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Isaac Hayes,
Malaria!,
Harry Pussy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marcia Griffiths,
Basic Channel,
The Gun Club,
UT,
Aloha Tigers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Saints,
The Real Kids,
The Monks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Toasters,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Whodini,
Hashim,
Technova,
Gang Starr,
Sam Rivers,
New Order,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Franke,
Marc Almond,
The Kinks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Residents,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Easy Going,
Electric Prunes,
Motorama,
H. Thieme,
Zapp,
Harmonia,
Fear,
Fugazi,
Lebanon Hanover,
Radio Birdman,
Mo-Dettes,
Jerry's Kids,
The Sound,
Porter Ricks,
Bad Manners,
Masters at Work,
Wire,
Bluetip,
Quantec,
Black Bananas,
Liliput,
The Index,
Mandrill,
Gong,
Barclay James Harvest,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Evens,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.