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 Tunisia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
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 Sällskapet to the electroclash 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 Lou Reed & Metallica. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABBA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aaron Thompson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Eddi Front,
Judy Mowatt,
Josef K,
This Heat,
Television Personalities,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Sexual Harrassment,
Basic Channel,
The Real Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
Kurtis Blow,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Howard Jones,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
a-ha,
Amon Düül,
Black Flag,
Stiv Bators,
The Slackers,
Parry Music,
T.S.O.L.,
Grauzone,
Bob Dylan,
The Cowsills,
Tim Buckley,
The Doors,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Tommy Roe,
CMW,
Livin' Joy,
Blancmange,
World's Most,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Joe Finger,
Crispian St. Peters,
Trumans Water,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Germs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABBA,
Eric Dolphy,
Fela Kuti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Prince Buster,
Bush Tetras,
Sixth Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
Ponytail,
Fugazi,
Rotary Connection,
Suburban Knight,
John Lydon,
Donny Hathaway,
Ituana,
The Move,
Joyce Sims,
Can,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers, De La Soul & Jungle Brothers.
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.