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 Suriname and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba 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 The Electric Prunes to the jazz 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Black Moon,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Graham Central Station,
The Techniques,
Basic Channel,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Mummies,
Index,
Whodini,
Ossler,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Martian,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Dirtbombs,
Outsiders,
Isaac Hayes,
the Germs,
Chris & Cosey,
Robert Hood,
Josef K,
Sam Rivers,
Eddi Front,
Wolf Eyes,
Roxy Music,
Minutemen,
Kerri Chandler,
Wally Richardson,
The Knickerbockers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Black Sheep,
Judy Mowatt,
Au Pairs,
Cymande,
Clear Light,
The Gladiators,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang of Four,
Joensuu 1685,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sound Behaviour,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marcia Griffiths,
F. McDonald,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ralphi Rosario,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donald Byrd,
Surgeon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bill Near,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Monks,
Infiniti,
The Misunderstood,
Charles Mingus,
The Doors,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.