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 Venezuela and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Pylon to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All The Move tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marc Almond,
Lucky Dragons,
The Electric Prunes,
Sandy B,
The Cure,
Bang On A Can,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stockholm Monsters,
Intrusion,
The Kinks,
Das Ding,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Colin Newman,
Hardrive,
Alice Coltrane,
The Knickerbockers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Erykah Badu,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Blossom Toes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter and Kerry,
Spoonie Gee,
The Evens,
Pussy Galore,
The Fuzztones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Man Eating Sloth,
D'Angelo,
Jandek,
The Doors,
Public Enemy,
World's Most,
The Standells,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Human League,
Ice-T,
The Mummies,
Y Pants,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Guru Guru,
Jeff Lynne,
Gabor Szabo,
The Gun Club,
Ultimate Spinach,
Schoolly D,
Flipper,
Lyres,
Ornette Coleman,
Mo-Dettes,
Shuggie Otis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T. Rex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
a-ha,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.