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 Morocco 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Aloha Tigers to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Gian Franco Pienzio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Echospace,
Quantec,
Symarip,
Animal Collective,
Bobby Sherman,
Cluster,
The Durutti Column,
Newcleus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Roy Ayers,
Unrelated Segments,
Amon Düül,
Essential Logic,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sonny Sharrock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Con Funk Shun,
Franke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scion,
The Angels of Light,
Trumans Water,
Tubeway Army,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deakin,
John Holt,
Simply Red,
Brick,
Livin' Joy,
New Order,
Dual Sessions,
Maurizio,
Swans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barry Ungar,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Soft Cell,
Blancmange,
Crooked Eye,
Ralphi Rosario,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Can,
Nico,
The Gories,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Blackbyrds,
Fad Gadget,
AZ,
Icehouse,
Howard Jones,
Grey Daturas,
Gong,
The Human League,
Organ,
Roxette,
Blossom Toes,
Cecil Taylor,
The Misunderstood,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.