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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Anthony Braxton to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Q65. All the underground hits.
All Bizarre Inc. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slackers,
Tubeway Army,
The Count Five,
The Saints,
F. McDonald,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New Age Steppers,
Jawbox,
the Human League,
Interpol,
Lee Hazlewood,
Jandek,
Toni Rubio,
The Birthday Party,
The Index,
The Wake,
Essential Logic,
Gabor Szabo,
Technova,
Gang Starr,
The Durutti Column,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tommy Roe,
Crime,
Harry Pussy,
Panda Bear,
Sound Behaviour,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sex Pistols,
Hasil Adkins,
Scratch Acid,
Whodini,
John Foxx,
Matthew Halsall,
Robert Wyatt,
Archie Shepp,
Soulsonic Force,
Roy Ayers,
Bluetip,
Joey Negro,
Blake Baxter,
The Neon Judgement,
Boredoms,
Camouflage,
Clear Light,
DJ Style,
The Fugs,
Amon Düül,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Surgeon,
Dennis Brown,
Sun Ra,
Average White Band,
R.M.O.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pagans,
The Blues Magoos,
Scott Walker,
Tim Buckley,
Pere Ubu,
The Doobie Brothers,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.