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 Calgary.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Andrew Hill to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Au Pairs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Amon Düül,
Wings,
Lucky Dragons,
Junior Murvin,
Warsaw,
Dennis Brown,
Black Pus,
The Young Rascals,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Harry Pussy,
Dawn Penn,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Litter,
The Residents,
Pierre Henry,
Jacob Miller,
Animal Collective,
Masters at Work,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sarah Menescal,
The Zeros,
Depeche Mode,
Todd Rundgren,
Brothers Johnson,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Derrick May,
Marvin Gaye,
Lyres,
Ten City,
New Age Steppers,
Eve St. Jones,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Amon Düül II,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nico,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Robert Görl,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Davy DMX,
Zapp,
Shoche,
The Real Kids,
Moby Grape,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Cale,
Gong,
The Raincoats,
Porter Ricks,
the Association,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.