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 Greece and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 snare 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 Don Cherry to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Eurythmics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Essential Logic,
Nico,
Index,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arab on Radar,
Lalann,
Gil Scott Heron,
Maurizio,
Lakeside,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Derrick Morgan,
The Slits,
The Fuzztones,
Maleditus Sound,
Severed Heads,
Heaven 17,
Altered Images,
Panda Bear,
Glenn Branca,
10cc,
Brand Nubian,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scott Walker,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Procol Harum,
Jimmy McGriff,
Urselle,
The Sonics,
Country Teasers,
Bang On A Can,
The Angels of Light,
The Associates,
The Real Kids,
Bad Manners,
Arcadia,
The Birthday Party,
Camouflage,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Can,
Loose Ends,
Marmalade,
Buzzcocks,
Chris Corsano,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Gang Green,
Audionom,
Arthur Verocai,
The Dirtbombs,
Rufus Thomas,
John Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
Zapp,
La Düsseldorf,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ken Boothe,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.