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 Burundi and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Das Ding to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints 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?
Nick Fraelich,
Reagan Youth,
Deepchord,
Flash Fearless,
Alison Limerick,
David Axelrod,
Newcleus,
Rapeman,
The Buckinghams,
The Star Department,
Glenn Branca,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Selecter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Eddi Front,
JFA,
Wasted Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kerri Chandler,
Guru Guru,
DJ Sneak,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeff Mills,
Dawn Penn,
Neil Young,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chris Corsano,
Bluetip,
Drexciya,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blossom Toes,
Accadde A,
Franke,
Monks,
Dark Day,
Groovy Waters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
John Lydon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Cecil Taylor,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Theoretical Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Kinks,
Deakin,
Joyce Sims,
Gichy Dan,
Lee Hazlewood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kevin Saunderson,
Juan Atkins,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Doors,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Suicide,
Television,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rites of Spring,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.