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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Bill Near to the grunge 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Section 25 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Reagan Youth,
The J.B.'s,
Anthony Braxton,
Lungfish,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Doors,
Unrelated Segments,
Jeru the Damaja,
Hardrive,
Fatback Band,
Sun Ra,
Frankie Knuckles,
Donny Hathaway,
Charles Mingus,
Bush Tetras,
Jandek,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Erasure,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ken Boothe,
Kerrie Biddell,
Schoolly D,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jerry's Kids,
Technova,
Model 500,
Los Fastidios,
Aswad,
The United States of America,
The Last Poets,
Electric Light Orchestra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Brick,
Ultravox,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
Tres Demented,
New York Dolls,
The Skatalites,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barclay James Harvest,
T. Rex,
UT,
Lou Reed,
the Human League,
The Beau Brummels,
Sex Pistols,
Ronnie Foster,
The Monochrome Set,
The Mummies,
Wally Richardson,
Donald Byrd,
The Monks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Fortunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Depeche Mode,
The Dave Clark Five,
Cecil Taylor,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Morten Harket,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.