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 Panama and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 In Retrospect to the disco 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 Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Talk Talk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Bang On A Can,
Mars,
Animal Collective,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Al Stewart,
James White and The Blacks,
Heaven 17,
The Durutti Column,
The Sound,
Soul II Soul,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kaleidoscope,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Standells,
Davy DMX,
The Toasters,
World's Most,
The Blackbyrds,
Niagra,
Kas Product,
Derrick May,
The New Christs,
Hoover,
Scion,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Quantec,
The Fugs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harmonia,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Roxy Music,
Crispy Ambulance,
Rekid,
Marc Almond,
Severed Heads,
Pantytec,
H. Thieme,
The Searchers,
John Lydon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Peter and Kerry,
Lindisfarne,
Erasure,
Sun Ra,
Eric Copeland,
Skaos,
Kenny Larkin,
Scratch Acid,
Monolake,
Nils Olav,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Icehouse,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jimmy McGriff,
New Age Steppers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Moody Blues,
Lungfish,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.