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 Jordan and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 In Retrospect to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Art Ensemble Of Chicago 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Minutemen,
Toni Rubio,
June of 44,
Radio Birdman,
Drexciya,
Panda Bear,
Eric B and Rakim,
Infiniti,
Henry Cow,
Visage,
Absolute Body Control,
Deadbeat,
The American Breed,
Eve St. Jones,
the Bar-Kays,
David McCallum,
Das Ding,
Siglo XX,
The Pretty Things,
Ultra Naté,
Judy Mowatt,
New Age Steppers,
Accadde A,
Lightning Bolt,
Fluxion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Severed Heads,
The Grass Roots,
Delta 5,
The Dirtbombs,
Alison Limerick,
Minor Threat,
PIL,
Byron Stingily,
Slick Rick,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Young Rascals,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Last Poets,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick May,
Easy Going,
Urselle,
Black Bananas,
The Shadows of Knight,
K-Klass,
Arthur Verocai,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nik Kershaw,
Neil Young,
Section 25,
The Walker Brothers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Second Layer,
Joe Smooth,
Index,
Isaac Hayes,
The Victims,
The Index,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rotary Connection,
Blake Baxter,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.