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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 marimba 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 Joey Negro to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gichy Dan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Erasure,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
KRS-One,
Television,
Magazine,
The Blues Magoos,
Erykah Badu,
Saccharine Trust,
The Kinks,
Rapeman,
Byron Stingily,
Anakelly,
Kayak,
Marmalade,
Amazonics,
Junior Murvin,
Pussy Galore,
Audionom,
Bob Dylan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sexual Harrassment,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Toni Rubio,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Techniques,
Colin Newman,
Section 25,
Jacques Brel,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joensuu 1685,
Donald Byrd,
Cameo,
Yellowson,
Tres Demented,
Stetsasonic,
Dual Sessions,
Todd Terry,
World's Most,
Excepter,
Babytalk,
UT,
Grauzone,
Man Eating Sloth,
David Bowie,
Mad Mike,
T. Rex,
Dave Gahan,
Goldenarms,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Harry Pussy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eurythmics,
The Vogues,
Q and Not U,
Main Source,
Lou Reed,
Idris Muhammad,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.