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 Rwanda and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Halifax.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Tres Demented to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Surgeon,
Jacques Brel,
Spoonie Gee,
Marc Almond,
Sun City Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pussy Galore,
Jimmy McGriff,
Technova,
La Düsseldorf,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Slick Rick,
Fluxion,
The Residents,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Neil Young,
DNA,
Easy Going,
Alison Limerick,
Sparks,
the Human League,
MC5,
Donald Byrd,
Ultravox,
Can,
Vladislav Delay,
the Association,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Derrick Morgan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Audionom,
Terry Callier,
Kenny Larkin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Amon Düül II,
Cheater Slicks,
Yazoo,
Yaz,
D'Angelo,
Excepter,
The Cramps,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Bar-Kays,
Los Fastidios,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Gastr Del Sol,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Danielle Patucci,
Soul II Soul,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Searchers,
Matthew Bourne,
The Trojans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Piero Umiliani,
Davy DMX,
the Slits,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Terry,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.