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 Cuba and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Human League. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Joe Smooth,
Masters at Work,
Eric Copeland,
Man Eating Sloth,
Desert Stars,
Junior Murvin,
Pet Shop Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Glambeats Corp.,
Frankie Knuckles,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Last Poets,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fire Engines,
Organ,
The Tremeloes,
Cecil Taylor,
The American Breed,
Avey Tare,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Moon,
Absolute Body Control,
Gregory Isaacs,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sun Ra,
Brothers Johnson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Vainqueur,
Wally Richardson,
The Zeros,
Panda Bear,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dual Sessions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
X-102,
The Move,
Soft Cell,
Terry Callier,
Television Personalities,
Mo-Dettes,
Lindisfarne,
Quando Quango,
The Kinks,
Judy Mowatt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Simply Red,
Pantaleimon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Prunes,
Brand Nubian,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Birthday Party,
FM Einheit,
Nation of Ulysses,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.