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 Singapore and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Brand Nubian to the rap 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Nick Fraelich tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Cecil Taylor,
FM Einheit,
Eve St. Jones,
Sarah Menescal,
Freddie Wadling,
Black Flag,
The United States of America,
T.S.O.L.,
Darondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Green,
Funky Four + One,
Spandau Ballet,
Don Cherry,
Cybotron,
Matthew Bourne,
Quando Quango,
Nas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wally Richardson,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Reagan Youth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Pretty Things,
Deakin,
Joy Division,
Television,
Aloha Tigers,
Aaron Thompson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magma,
Sex Pistols,
The Shadows of Knight,
Outsiders,
Youth Brigade,
The Residents,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vainqueur,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Rites of Spring,
The Barracudas,
The Busters,
KRS-One,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kayak,
The Red Krayola,
The Golliwogs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Eric Copeland,
Qualms,
Marine Girls,
Supertramp,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.