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 Dominican Republic and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 oboe 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 Y Pants to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sound Behaviour,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Zeros,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Human League,
Brass Construction,
The Fugs,
Organ,
Flipper,
Michelle Simonal,
Sam Rivers,
Idris Muhammad,
Eddi Front,
Warren Ellis,
Los Fastidios,
The Raincoats,
Youth Brigade,
Agent Orange,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare,
Sex Pistols,
Girls At Our Best!,
U.S. Maple,
Slave,
Deadbeat,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Susan Cadogan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Standells,
Fluxion,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy,
The Remains,
F. McDonald,
Bobby Womack,
Intrusion,
Wasted Youth,
Loose Ends,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
China Crisis,
Interpol,
Rekid,
The Black Dice,
Brand Nubian,
Marcia Griffiths,
Masters at Work,
The Doors,
Bush Tetras,
The Electric Prunes,
Smog,
Funky Four + One,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sarah Menescal,
Bluetip,
X-102,
Freddie Wadling,
Kurtis Blow,
DNA,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Selecter,
Niagra,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.