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 Namibia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tehran.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the dance 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 LL Cool J. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul 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 a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
The Names,
Procol Harum,
June of 44,
Minny Pops,
Fear,
Adolescents,
The Gladiators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Red Krayola,
Nirvana,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-Ray Spex,
Angry Samoans,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Hutcherson,
CMW,
The Shadows of Knight,
MC5,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bobby Byrd,
New York Dolls,
The Divine Comedy,
Essential Logic,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Five Americans,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marmalade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Terry Callier,
Lower 48,
The Wake,
Harpers Bizarre,
Desert Stars,
Suicide,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Maurizio,
Yellowson,
Robert Wyatt,
Circle Jerks,
Guru Guru,
Marcia Griffiths,
John Foxx,
Joensuu 1685,
The Standells,
Sonic Youth,
Dawn Penn,
Neil Young,
Andrew Hill,
Janne Schatter,
the Fania All-Stars,
MDC,
Gang Green,
Donny Hathaway,
The Alarm Clocks,
Camberwell Now,
Joe Finger,
Avey Tare,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.