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 El Salvador and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Khruangbin to the rock 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stockholm Monsters,
DJ Style,
Sun City Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
cv313,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Hood,
The Remains,
These Immortal Souls,
Clear Light,
UT,
Alice Coltrane,
Trumans Water,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Slits,
Smog,
Jimmy McGriff,
Rotary Connection,
Anakelly,
PIL,
Rapeman,
Carl Craig,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Joe Smooth,
Gregory Isaacs,
Neil Young,
Outsiders,
Scott Walker,
John Lydon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Dead C,
Cluster,
Roger Hodgson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Move,
Prince Buster,
Minnie Riperton,
The Happenings,
John Holt,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Don Cherry,
R.M.O.,
Bronski Beat,
The Wake,
Con Funk Shun,
Thompson Twins,
Siglo XX,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fluxion,
Derrick Morgan,
Supertramp,
Eric Dolphy,
Soulsonic Force,
Ice-T,
Morten Harket,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kayak,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.