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 Burkina and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 Milan and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Eli Mardock to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
the Soft Cell,
Bang On A Can,
Mission of Burma,
Nation of Ulysses,
EPMD,
Graham Central Station,
Jerry's Kids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Eddi Front,
Steve Hackett,
Franke,
Supertramp,
The Fortunes,
Reuben Wilson,
DJ Style,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quantec,
Clear Light,
Ponytail,
8 Eyed Spy,
Howard Jones,
Alphaville,
Suicide,
David Bowie,
Stiv Bators,
Audionom,
Shuggie Otis,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Minutemen,
Ludus,
Ultravox,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Raincoats,
Swell Maps,
Can,
MC5,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed,
Lindisfarne,
Index,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eric Dolphy,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
A Certain Ratio,
Saccharine Trust,
X-101,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Trojans,
The Blues Magoos,
The Red Krayola,
Fat Boys,
One Last Wish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Icehouse,
Stockholm Monsters,
Wire,
Y Pants,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.