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 Iraq and from New York.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Lou Reed 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the crunk 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Rapeman,
Delon & Dalcan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kayak,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Alphaville,
Crispy Ambulance,
Average White Band,
Eve St. Jones,
CMW,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Surgeon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Quando Quango,
Neil Young,
Jesper Dahlback,
Drive Like Jehu,
Byron Stingily,
Tubeway Army,
Das Ding,
The Fall,
Robert Wyatt,
The Music Machine,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Negative Approach,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jeff Lynne,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
June of 44,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dark Day,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Fortunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fad Gadget,
The Busters,
Althea and Donna,
Grey Daturas,
The Invisible,
Bobby Sherman,
New York Dolls,
The Litter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
KRS-One,
Fugazi,
Pagans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
These Immortal Souls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bang On A Can,
Kaleidoscope,
Siglo XX,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Peter and Kerry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
The Mummies,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.