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 Nepal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Roxy Music to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All KRS-One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Bush Tetras,
Goldenarms,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ponytail,
Zero Boys,
The Kinks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
One Last Wish,
Pantytec,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cecil Taylor,
Heaven 17,
Aaron Thompson,
Livin' Joy,
The Flesh Eaters,
The United States of America,
the Human League,
Technova,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Neon Judgement,
Spoonie Gee,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Angels of Light,
Scratch Acid,
Outsiders,
Juan Atkins,
Scrapy,
The Red Krayola,
Bobby Hutcherson,
KRS-One,
Rotary Connection,
Nas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Skarface,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Blake Baxter,
Fat Boys,
Don Cherry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gerry Rafferty,
June of 44,
Eric Copeland,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
Scion,
a-ha,
Skaos,
The Names,
Sexual Harrassment,
Drive Like Jehu,
In Retrospect,
Brick,
Urselle,
Electric Prunes,
Tom Boy,
Brand Nubian,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.