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 Lesotho and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Blossom Toes to the disco 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 The Fall. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
Sam Rivers,
The Motions,
Deakin,
Tomorrow,
The Fugs,
F. McDonald,
Lungfish,
Donald Byrd,
The Mummies,
DNA,
Nirvana,
The Modern Lovers,
Organ,
Ludus,
Eurythmics,
Faust,
Youth Brigade,
The Monks,
The Martian,
Al Stewart,
the Fania All-Stars,
X-101,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Don Cherry,
The Stooges,
Interpol,
Bad Manners,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Tubeway Army,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kenny Larkin,
Unrelated Segments,
Ultravox,
The Flesh Eaters,
Livin' Joy,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Angels of Light,
Royal Trux,
Essential Logic,
Jimmy McGriff,
The American Breed,
Amazonics,
Arthur Verocai,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective,
Donny Hathaway,
Pylon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Five Americans,
Derrick Morgan,
Make Up,
The Moleskins,
Little Man,
Soft Cell,
Peter & Gordon,
Monolake,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roxy Music,
The Move,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.