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 Kazakhstan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes 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 The Martian to the electroclash 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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
The Cramps,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sällskapet,
PIL,
The Seeds,
Japan,
Lucky Dragons,
The Slackers,
Funky Four + One,
Matthew Halsall,
Pagans,
A Certain Ratio,
Au Pairs,
Crooked Eye,
The Gories,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
EPMD,
Silicon Teens,
Al Stewart,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Drexciya,
The Blues Magoos,
Tom Boy,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blackbyrds,
Anthony Braxton,
The Litter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bluetip,
Faust,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Five Americans,
Moby Grape,
The Detroit Cobras,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Robert Hood,
Sonic Youth,
Whodini,
K-Klass,
Qualms,
Joy Division,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Camouflage,
Aloha Tigers,
Albert Ayler,
DJ Style,
The Cure,
Television Personalities,
Sun Ra,
Isaac Hayes,
Popol Vuh,
Newcleus,
Lalann,
Hasil Adkins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.