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 Ireland and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb 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 a-ha to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Warsaw,
Rod Modell,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Associates,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lucky Dragons,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Royal Trux,
Underground Resistance,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Last Poets,
Supertramp,
Section 25,
Tropical Tobacco,
Infiniti,
Bob Dylan,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Gladiators,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Cure,
Joey Negro,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Slits,
Alison Limerick,
Man Parrish,
Ponytail,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
World's Most,
The Seeds,
Josef K,
Los Fastidios,
Crooked Eye,
Mr. Review,
Cal Tjader,
The Remains,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Cameo,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
Crash Course in Science,
Hardrive,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Harmonia,
The Invisible,
Tommy Roe,
Ten City,
Howard Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Motorama,
Marcia Griffiths,
Y Pants,
The Leaves,
Andrew Hill,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.