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 East Timor and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Brothers Johnson to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Shoche. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
Excepter,
Urselle,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Slick Rick,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minor Threat,
The Standells,
Anakelly,
Mad Mike,
Brick,
The Gap Band,
Roxy Music,
Suicide,
Lightning Bolt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tim Buckley,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Mantronix,
Sällskapet,
Funky Four + One,
AZ,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boredoms,
Lower 48,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gichy Dan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lungfish,
Underground Resistance,
Skaos,
Porter Ricks,
Heaven 17,
Sandy B,
Young Marble Giants,
ABBA,
Kerri Chandler,
D'Angelo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Selecter,
Reagan Youth,
cv313,
Pere Ubu,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Byrd,
DNA,
Donald Byrd,
OOIOO,
Drexciya,
Deadbeat,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Slackers,
Altered Images,
Groovy Waters,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.