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 Ecuador and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 London and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Slick Rick to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Main Source tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kevin Saunderson,
The Raincoats,
Tres Demented,
T.S.O.L.,
Organ,
Monks,
Dave Gahan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Glambeats Corp.,
Masters at Work,
Wasted Youth,
Archie Shepp,
Reagan Youth,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Evens,
Model 500,
Maleditus Sound,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Electric Prunes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yusef Lateef,
Harry Pussy,
New Age Steppers,
Shoche,
Jeru the Damaja,
Johnny Clarke,
The Standells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Leonard Cohen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Index,
The Modern Lovers,
Sugar Minott,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pagans,
Main Source,
The Alarm Clocks,
Excepter,
Fear,
Rites of Spring,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marc Almond,
Carl Craig,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gladiators,
Whodini,
Khruangbin,
Tropical Tobacco,
Animal Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
Sällskapet,
Fatback Band,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Newcleus,
The Fire Engines,
Stereo Dub,
ABBA, ABBA, ABBA, ABBA.
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.