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 Spain and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the marimba 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 Letta Mbulu to the techno 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 The Raincoats. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barbara Tucker,
Flipper,
Bauhaus,
Scan 7,
Bill Wells,
Sixth Finger,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Unwound,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bronski Beat,
Can,
Blossom Toes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pantytec,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mary Jane Girls,
Spoonie Gee,
Tubeway Army,
Pharoah Sanders,
Delta 5,
Prince Buster,
Popol Vuh,
The Monochrome Set,
Minutemen,
EPMD,
Howard Jones,
Darondo,
Panda Bear,
Tom Boy,
Loose Ends,
Peter and Kerry,
Crooked Eye,
Urselle,
Black Moon,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gories,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hashim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Easy Going,
Black Bananas,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
These Immortal Souls,
Fatback Band,
Eve St. Jones,
Alphaville,
the Soft Cell,
Magazine,
Skriet,
The Trojans,
David McCallum,
Symarip,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Last Poets,
Ossler,
Eli Mardock,
Jeff Lynne,
Cecil Taylor,
Gabor Szabo,
This Heat,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.