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 Togo and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 mellotron 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 Soft Machine to the grunge 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer 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 linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Magma,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bootsy Collins,
Roxy Music,
The Red Krayola,
Eric B and Rakim,
Parry Music,
Big Daddy Kane,
Chris Corsano,
Freddie Wadling,
The Remains,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lakeside,
Glenn Branca,
Mad Mike,
Tim Buckley,
Reuben Wilson,
Massinfluence,
Porter Ricks,
Kurtis Blow,
Theoretical Girls,
Steve Hackett,
The Real Kids,
PIL,
MC5,
The J.B.'s,
Country Teasers,
Can,
Eric Dolphy,
The Leaves,
Ossler,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Connie Case,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tom Boy,
Mo-Dettes,
Scrapy,
Cheater Slicks,
Mr. Review,
Patti Smith,
The Standells,
Amon Düül II,
The Black Dice,
Cecil Taylor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Whodini,
Fad Gadget,
Scion,
Avey Tare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radio Birdman,
The Evens,
Ludus,
The Blackbyrds,
Con Funk Shun,
Drexciya,
Adolescents,
Easy Going,
Alison Limerick,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.