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 Suriname and from Columbus.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 organ 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 Country Teasers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Maleditus Sound. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bobby Byrd,
Mantronix,
Peter & Gordon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DJ Sneak,
Peter and Kerry,
Gang Starr,
Black Bananas,
Juan Atkins,
Shoche,
Michelle Simonal,
Soulsonic Force,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rites of Spring,
The Tremeloes,
T.S.O.L.,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barry Ungar,
Youth Brigade,
Deepchord,
Duran Duran,
Jimmy McGriff,
Joy Division,
The Blackbyrds,
Amazonics,
Bob Dylan,
Mandrill,
June Days,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Godley & Creme,
Panda Bear,
Grey Daturas,
The Vogues,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Blake Baxter,
Marvin Gaye,
Harry Pussy,
Henry Cow,
Bang On A Can,
Quantec,
Main Source,
Babytalk,
Gang of Four,
Fela Kuti,
Laurel Aitken,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Aaron Thompson,
New Age Steppers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon,
Amon Düül,
Tres Demented,
Simply Red,
Al Stewart,
Leonard Cohen,
Camouflage,
Sugar Minott,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.