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 Kosovo 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sällskapet to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mission of Burma,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispian St. Peters,
Susan Cadogan,
Shuggie Otis,
Second Layer,
Wings,
Leonard Cohen,
Grey Daturas,
The Dirtbombs,
Crash Course in Science,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Arthur Verocai,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amazonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fat Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Visage,
Cluster,
Brand Nubian,
Eric Copeland,
Suburban Knight,
Animal Collective,
Toni Rubio,
Mr. Review,
The Barracudas,
Sarah Menescal,
KRS-One,
Carl Craig,
Clear Light,
Franke,
Index,
Yellowson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Andrew Hill,
Peter & Gordon,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Eden Ahbez,
Ossler,
Pantytec,
Juan Atkins,
Gong,
Gichy Dan,
Sixth Finger,
The Cowsills,
Darondo,
Stiv Bators,
Morten Harket,
a-ha,
The Pop Group,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Cale,
Eli Mardock,
Mo-Dettes,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.