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 Taiwan and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Saccharine Trust to the punk 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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Gichy Dan,
Aswad,
Grey Daturas,
Intrusion,
Johnny Osbourne,
EPMD,
Slick Rick,
Ituana,
This Heat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Yazoo,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Make Up,
Main Source,
T.S.O.L.,
Mission of Burma,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultra Naté,
Livin' Joy,
Can,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick Morgan,
KRS-One,
Black Pus,
Camouflage,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Electric Prunes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pulsallama,
Crispian St. Peters,
Newcleus,
Model 500,
Circle Jerks,
Young Marble Giants,
Mandrill,
Vainqueur,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cure,
Byron Stingily,
Surgeon,
Kurtis Blow,
Von Mondo,
Oneida,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
A Flock of Seagulls,
Althea and Donna,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Organ,
The Angels of Light,
The Birthday Party,
Blake Baxter,
K-Klass,
Thompson Twins,
John Holt,
Lalo Schifrin,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.