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 Russia and from Madrid.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Pantytec tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gregory Isaacs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
R.M.O.,
Ituana,
Rotary Connection,
Wire,
Andrew Hill,
Thompson Twins,
Rapeman,
Rod Modell,
Lebanon Hanover,
Danielle Patucci,
Joensuu 1685,
The Birthday Party,
OOIOO,
David McCallum,
The Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
Animal Collective,
the Human League,
Camouflage,
Fear,
The Star Department,
Motorama,
FM Einheit,
Glenn Branca,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bronski Beat,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Subhumans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Y Pants,
The Raincoats,
Charles Mingus,
ABC,
Dual Sessions,
Altered Images,
Derrick May,
Rufus Thomas,
Scientists,
The Barracudas,
The United States of America,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dead C,
The Selecter,
The Red Krayola,
James White and The Blacks,
Magma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Anakelly,
Das Ding,
Fad Gadget,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fall,
Morten Harket,
Deakin,
Janne Schatter,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kayak,
Liliput,
Byron Stingily,
Scott Walker,
Girls At Our Best!,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.