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 China and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Barbara Tucker to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Motions,
Mo-Dettes,
Minny Pops,
Johnny Clarke,
Bluetip,
Roger Hodgson,
James White and The Blacks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Doors,
Scientists,
Lower 48,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fugazi,
Barclay James Harvest,
X-101,
Lightning Bolt,
A Certain Ratio,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Golliwogs,
Flipper,
kango's stein massive,
Magma,
Althea and Donna,
Mars,
UT,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fugs,
Terry Callier,
K-Klass,
Kaleidoscope,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Anthony Braxton,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Moby Grape,
The Offenders,
Mr. Review,
Drexciya,
The Move,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Young Rascals,
Jacob Miller,
Quantec,
Slave,
Robert Hood,
Ossler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Connie Case,
B.T. Express,
Desert Stars,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kenny Larkin,
The Mojo Men,
Royal Trux,
Wire,
The Leaves,
Suburban Knight,
Underground Resistance,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Metal Thangz,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.