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 Mongolia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ten City to the grime 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Jandek,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Bananas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mr. Review,
Nick Fraelich,
Slick Rick,
the Human League,
B.T. Express,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Tres Demented,
Vladislav Delay,
Moby Grape,
Babytalk,
Joey Negro,
Bootsy Collins,
Dave Gahan,
Isaac Hayes,
Fatback Band,
The Divine Comedy,
Quadrant,
Mars,
Henry Cow,
Black Sheep,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
Sun Ra,
Ossler,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fugazi,
Barrington Levy,
Quando Quango,
Bush Tetras,
Animal Collective,
Jeff Mills,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marvin Gaye,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sex Pistols,
Bobby Womack,
John Coltrane,
John Holt,
Maleditus Sound,
a-ha,
Bill Near,
Alice Coltrane,
June Days,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters,
10cc,
The Fuzztones,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
the Bar-Kays,
Minnie Riperton,
Eve St. Jones,
Deepchord,
The Litter,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.