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 Ghana and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 rhodes 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 Minny Pops to the grunge 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
kango's stein massive,
the Sonics,
Lalann,
Liliput,
Brothers Johnson,
Soulsonic Force,
the Slits,
Mark Hollis,
Fad Gadget,
The Cramps,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Suicide,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cowsills,
The Saints,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bill Near,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Tres Demented,
Bizarre Inc.,
In Retrospect,
Reagan Youth,
Charles Mingus,
Ultra Naté,
Second Layer,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Dead C,
Donny Hathaway,
Avey Tare,
World's Most,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
DJ Style,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang of Four,
CMW,
Khruangbin,
Piero Umiliani,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Circle Jerks,
Fela Kuti,
Todd Rundgren,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Warren Ellis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Thompson Twins,
Average White Band,
Index,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bad Manners,
The Red Krayola,
Soft Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rakim,
Slave,
Scion,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.