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 Afghanistan and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Calgary.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Lalo Schifrin 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All Bad Manners tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nico record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ice-T,
D'Angelo,
Oblivians,
Wally Richardson,
The Count Five,
The Gun Club,
Piero Umiliani,
Arthur Verocai,
the Normal,
Public Enemy,
The Birthday Party,
Charles Mingus,
Joe Smooth,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Groovy Waters,
Popol Vuh,
The Misunderstood,
Skaos,
New York Dolls,
Andrew Hill,
Suicide,
Khruangbin,
The Angels of Light,
The Standells,
Rosa Yemen,
Slick Rick,
Black Sheep,
Nils Olav,
The Litter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yellowson,
Panda Bear,
Lalann,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dave Gahan,
Sex Pistols,
Angry Samoans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Girls At Our Best!,
Donald Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Donny Hathaway,
The Moody Blues,
Minutemen,
Agent Orange,
Crooked Eye,
Von Mondo,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Finger,
Pierre Henry,
Black Bananas,
Barry Ungar,
Roxette,
Excepter,
Marcia Griffiths,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
The Zeros,
K-Klass,
Nico,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.