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 Italy and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sister Nancy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
U.S. Maple,
Boredoms,
Moss Icon,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mad Mike,
Desert Stars,
JFA,
The Invisible,
Hasil Adkins,
Heaven 17,
The Fire Engines,
Popol Vuh,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cecil Taylor,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pole,
Oneida,
Porter Ricks,
Q65,
Anakelly,
Pantaleimon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eddi Front,
Ken Boothe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sällskapet,
K-Klass,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funkadelic,
Sugar Minott,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Aural Exciters,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Piero Umiliani,
Technova,
The Last Poets,
Morten Harket,
The Associates,
Glenn Branca,
Clear Light,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Infiniti,
Thompson Twins,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gories,
Black Flag,
A Certain Ratio,
Subhumans,
Monolake,
Scientists,
Television Personalities,
Goldenarms,
The Moleskins,
Chris & Cosey,
Quantec,
The Cure,
the Slits,
Freddie Wadling,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.