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 Malawi and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 Audionom to the grunge 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 Joe Finger. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blake Baxter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Q and Not U,
Kurtis Blow,
The Evens,
Radio Birdman,
Henry Cow,
Roy Ayers,
FM Einheit,
John Coltrane,
U.S. Maple,
Aswad,
The New Christs,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
The Trojans,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Joey Negro,
The Zeros,
Nas,
Dawn Penn,
David McCallum,
Chris & Cosey,
Nick Fraelich,
Jawbox,
Faust,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott Heron,
Magazine,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The American Breed,
Lalann,
Blancmange,
Toni Rubio,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Holt,
The Gun Club,
Traffic Nightmare,
F. McDonald,
Desert Stars,
Intrusion,
Harpers Bizarre,
Simply Red,
Banda Bassotti,
T.S.O.L.,
Bluetip,
La Düsseldorf,
Skarface,
EPMD,
Nation of Ulysses,
Wally Richardson,
Basic Channel,
Ludus,
Brothers Johnson,
Theoretical Girls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Davy DMX,
The J.B.'s,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.