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 Guinea-Bissau and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 Bologna and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 These Immortal Souls to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Pere Ubu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dual Sessions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants 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?
Brick,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fugs,
X-Ray Spex,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Crispian St. Peters,
ABBA,
Pere Ubu,
the Bar-Kays,
Talk Talk,
Brothers Johnson,
Yusef Lateef,
Slave,
Al Stewart,
the Association,
Organ,
Skriet,
Marshall Jefferson,
Tommy Roe,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Fat Boys,
Josef K,
Arab on Radar,
Leonard Cohen,
Animal Collective,
Boz Scaggs,
Delta 5,
The Cowsills,
Y Pants,
Hoover,
Soft Cell,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Technova,
Goldenarms,
Bootsy Collins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Negative Approach,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Grass Roots,
8 Eyed Spy,
Crooked Eye,
The Dead C,
Loose Ends,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Niagra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Iggy Pop,
Andrew Hill,
The Fire Engines,
Mission of Burma,
Bobby Womack,
Mary Jane Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacques Brel,
Ornette Coleman,
Ken Boothe,
Clear Light,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.