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 Cyprus and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 arpeggiator 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 Soft Machine 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Howard Jones,
Ultravox,
Alton Ellis,
Charles Mingus,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rod Modell,
Archie Shepp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dead Boys,
Crime,
Eden Ahbez,
Bootsy Collins,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swans,
Mad Mike,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rosa Yemen,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Pus,
Susan Cadogan,
David Bowie,
48th St. Collective,
Peter and Kerry,
Dorothy Ashby,
Silicon Teens,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Saccharine Trust,
The Real Kids,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
H. Thieme,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barry Ungar,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lalann,
Roy Ayers,
Liliput,
Bang On A Can,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Infiniti,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Smiths,
The Invisible,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare,
Radiopuhelimet,
Massinfluence,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
EPMD,
Pagans,
Y Pants,
Jerry's Kids,
Funkadelic,
Cal Tjader,
Moby Grape,
Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions, Dual Sessions.
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.