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 Libya and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Fire Engines to the dance 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Stiv Bators,
Cluster,
Barrington Levy,
The Martian,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare,
Tommy Roe,
Quadrant,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Scan 7,
Little Man,
Tom Boy,
The Slackers,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Womack,
Crash Course in Science,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
Con Funk Shun,
The Smiths,
Ten City,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Masters at Work,
Brass Construction,
the Association,
Wire,
Smog,
Swans,
Amon Düül,
Eric Copeland,
Fear,
Bootsy Collins,
Lebanon Hanover,
Hashim,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heaven 17,
Albert Ayler,
Sonic Youth,
La Düsseldorf,
Ronnie Foster,
The Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Prince Buster,
Joey Negro,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soulsonic Force,
Niagra,
Cymande,
Sparks,
Black Pus,
Susan Cadogan,
Vainqueur,
Aaron Thompson,
Peter & Gordon,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Litter,
The Pop Group,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.