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 Lesotho and from Columbus.
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 Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba 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 Ice-T to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Leaves,
Graham Central Station,
Rekid,
World's Most,
Dead Boys,
Silicon Teens,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Alice Coltrane,
The Index,
Lungfish,
Sandy B,
Ronnie Foster,
Quadrant,
The Divine Comedy,
Chrome,
A Certain Ratio,
Drive Like Jehu,
One Last Wish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Main Source,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Todd Terry,
Flipper,
Ituana,
Gichy Dan,
Malaria!,
The Dirtbombs,
Half Japanese,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Porter Ricks,
Das Ding,
Surgeon,
Eve St. Jones,
the Slits,
ABC,
Althea and Donna,
Isaac Hayes,
Loose Ends,
Cheater Slicks,
Bush Tetras,
The Gladiators,
Sugar Minott,
Reagan Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Prince Buster,
Jacques Brel,
Q and Not U,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Procol Harum,
Gerry Rafferty,
Vainqueur,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wolf Eyes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Electric Prunes,
The Busters,
Pet Shop Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Lucky Dragons,
Yusef Lateef,
The Last Poets,
JFA, JFA, JFA, JFA.
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.