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 Bhutan and from Manila.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Bologna.
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 synthesizer 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 Barrington Levy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roger Hodgson,
The Skatalites,
Slick Rick,
The Neon Judgement,
Masters at Work,
Eric Copeland,
Ultravox,
The New Christs,
Sixth Finger,
Black Bananas,
The United States of America,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jeff Lynne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Brick,
The Trojans,
Monks,
Erykah Badu,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Danielle Patucci,
Donald Byrd,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eurythmics,
The Slackers,
The Searchers,
Tubeway Army,
Fifty Foot Hose,
D'Angelo,
Toni Rubio,
Pantaleimon,
Reagan Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Smiths,
Heaven 17,
The Fuzztones,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eve St. Jones,
Lebanon Hanover,
Procol Harum,
Desert Stars,
Tim Buckley,
The Five Americans,
Youth Brigade,
Deepchord,
Jerry's Kids,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Chris Corsano,
Flipper,
JFA,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Radio Birdman,
Barry Ungar,
Radiopuhelimet,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Busters,
Quadrant,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.