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 Brazil and from Seoul.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 sitar 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 Faraquet to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Smoke. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 American Breed,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Quando Quango,
David Bowie,
The Fall,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Harry Pussy,
Guru Guru,
Darondo,
Ten City,
Soulsonic Force,
Donald Byrd,
Camouflage,
Panda Bear,
Dual Sessions,
Lyres,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Shuggie Otis,
Masters at Work,
Dawn Penn,
Bob Dylan,
Neil Young,
Barbara Tucker,
Cal Tjader,
The Gap Band,
Cluster,
Sarah Menescal,
K-Klass,
Byron Stingily,
Tears for Fears,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bill Near,
Aural Exciters,
Reagan Youth,
Little Man,
Oneida,
Radiohead,
Jawbox,
Funkadelic,
Derrick May,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gabor Szabo,
Althea and Donna,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Donny Hathaway,
Frankie Knuckles,
Niagra,
the Germs,
Tomorrow,
Shoche,
Pharoah Sanders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brass Construction,
Barry Ungar,
Idris Muhammad,
Wally Richardson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wire,
The Music Machine,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.