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 Papua New Guinea and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Philadelphia.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Mission of Burma to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Barracudas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Lower 48,
Unwound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jeff Mills,
Scrapy,
Prince Buster,
Swell Maps,
Echospace,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-Ray Spex,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dirtbombs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crooked Eye,
The Red Krayola,
Qualms,
Kerri Chandler,
Brick,
Bill Wells,
Whodini,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Kenny Larkin,
The Electric Prunes,
Robert Görl,
The Cure,
Infiniti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
Khruangbin,
Saccharine Trust,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Metal Thangz,
Black Pus,
Drexciya,
Boredoms,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Duran Duran,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tropical Tobacco,
Peter & Gordon,
Derrick May,
Lucky Dragons,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
T. Rex,
Television Personalities,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Green,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultravox,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eric Copeland,
UT,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.