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 Burkina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Crime to the crunk 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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Make Up,
Black Bananas,
Newcleus,
Jeff Lynne,
Skaos,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Sherman,
Cymande,
Tom Boy,
Severed Heads,
Tropical Tobacco,
Davy DMX,
Brass Construction,
Amazonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Warsaw,
T. Rex,
Cybotron,
Faust,
Quadrant,
MDC,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Throbbing Gristle,
Metal Thangz,
Circle Jerks,
The Walker Brothers,
Mantronix,
Lindisfarne,
a-ha,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultra Naté,
Todd Terry,
Slave,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eli Mardock,
Patti Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Supertramp,
New York Dolls,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lee Hazlewood,
Easy Going,
The Mojo Men,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
June Days,
Dennis Brown,
Bang On A Can,
The Motions,
The Residents,
The Cure,
Young Marble Giants,
Bobby Byrd,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths,
Monks,
Scott Walker,
Spoonie Gee,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.