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 Netherlands and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 oboe 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 The Modern Lovers to the jazz 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 The Residents. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kango’s Stein Massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thee Headcoats,
Bad Manners,
Groovy Waters,
Magma,
Clear Light,
Aaron Thompson,
Average White Band,
Robert Görl,
DJ Sneak,
Blake Baxter,
The Fall,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Beau Brummels,
The Martian,
Bronski Beat,
Wolf Eyes,
Radio Birdman,
Basic Channel,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rosa Yemen,
Frankie Knuckles,
Barbara Tucker,
Buzzcocks,
Derrick Morgan,
Judy Mowatt,
Electric Prunes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
FM Einheit,
The Doobie Brothers,
Echospace,
Hashim,
Whodini,
Erasure,
Khruangbin,
Skarface,
Blancmange,
The Durutti Column,
Wally Richardson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bush Tetras,
Duran Duran,
Nik Kershaw,
Sandy B,
Rufus Thomas,
Rites of Spring,
Ornette Coleman,
Altered Images,
Aloha Tigers,
Brass Construction,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Iggy Pop,
Wings,
Inner City,
David McCallum,
Black Bananas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fat Boys,
June of 44,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.