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 Tonga and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Jakarta.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Bang On A Can to the grime 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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
the Bar-Kays,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camberwell Now,
Fugazi,
Sun Ra,
Icehouse,
Harmonia,
The Modern Lovers,
The Black Dice,
Crispian St. Peters,
Radio Birdman,
Country Teasers,
Kaleidoscope,
The Star Department,
Funkadelic,
Gang Starr,
Trumans Water,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Human League,
John Lydon,
Todd Terry,
48th St. Collective,
Judy Mowatt,
Aaron Thompson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Kenny Larkin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Bobby Sherman,
The Vogues,
Hashim,
Tomorrow,
Black Bananas,
Letta Mbulu,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lakeside,
The Techniques,
Jandek,
The Martian,
The Dirtbombs,
Adolescents,
The Five Americans,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Make Up,
Deadbeat,
Basic Channel,
The Fire Engines,
the Normal,
Hardrive,
Boz Scaggs,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Barracudas,
Jacob Miller,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shoche,
James White and The Blacks,
The Divine Comedy,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.