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 Bangladesh and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 8 Eyed Spy to the punk 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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
The Stooges,
Subhumans,
Spoonie Gee,
Al Stewart,
Deakin,
Pulsallama,
Robert Wyatt,
Desert Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Joy Division,
Newcleus,
Brick,
K-Klass,
Stetsasonic,
UT,
World's Most,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Animal Collective,
MDC,
H. Thieme,
Connie Case,
Rekid,
Colin Newman,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Bar-Kays,
Mars,
Mantronix,
Masters at Work,
R.M.O.,
In Retrospect,
Excepter,
The Slits,
Main Source,
Jacob Miller,
Danielle Patucci,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dirtbombs,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Bill Wells,
Todd Terry,
The Five Americans,
The Smoke,
Cymande,
The Misunderstood,
Scratch Acid,
Cameo,
Mo-Dettes,
Ice-T,
Adolescents,
Procol Harum,
Bizarre Inc.,
Vainqueur,
John Foxx,
Aloha Tigers,
Amazonics,
DJ Sneak,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.