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 Turkmenistan and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Index 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
F. McDonald,
Fluxion,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
In Retrospect,
Jawbox,
Throbbing Gristle,
June of 44,
Dawn Penn,
ABC,
Japan,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yaz,
Whodini,
Pere Ubu,
Isaac Hayes,
Tomorrow,
Aaron Thompson,
Skriet,
FM Einheit,
X-102,
The Misunderstood,
Youth Brigade,
Marvin Gaye,
Aural Exciters,
The Slackers,
Fela Kuti,
Trumans Water,
Minutemen,
Marine Girls,
Tommy Roe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
OOIOO,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Erykah Badu,
Schoolly D,
Anakelly,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gladiators,
Derrick May,
JFA,
Derrick Morgan,
New York Dolls,
Warsaw,
kango's stein massive,
Vainqueur,
The Mummies,
Wings,
The Searchers,
Lightning Bolt,
David Axelrod,
Donald Byrd,
The Neon Judgement,
Eddi Front,
MC5,
Mantronix,
Pagans,
Y Pants,
Harry Pussy,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.