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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the guitar 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 EPMD to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tears for Fears,
Bobby Womack,
Thee Headcoats,
Sandy B,
The Dirtbombs,
DJ Sneak,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Easy Going,
The Skatalites,
Sam Rivers,
The J.B.'s,
Moss Icon,
Pussy Galore,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boz Scaggs,
The Wake,
Bill Wells,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rites of Spring,
Mary Jane Girls,
One Last Wish,
The Music Machine,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sixth Finger,
The Cowsills,
Marcia Griffiths,
ABC,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lindisfarne,
Jerry's Kids,
a-ha,
Kurtis Blow,
The Remains,
Byron Stingily,
Arab on Radar,
The Mojo Men,
Joensuu 1685,
The Blackbyrds,
Delta 5,
Lalann,
10cc,
The Standells,
Silicon Teens,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Wyatt,
The Vogues,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Average White Band,
The Names,
Black Pus,
Erykah Badu,
Minnie Riperton,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott Heron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.