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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Black Bananas to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marshall Jefferson. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ituana 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
Fat Boys,
In Retrospect,
The Saints,
Bill Wells,
The Gories,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kevin Saunderson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Dolphy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fela Kuti,
Make Up,
Warsaw,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Bananas,
Tears for Fears,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed,
The Birthday Party,
Janne Schatter,
These Immortal Souls,
Deepchord,
Godley & Creme,
Michelle Simonal,
Scan 7,
Yaz,
Howard Jones,
Pussy Galore,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anakelly,
John Holt,
KRS-One,
The Vogues,
MC5,
Marvin Gaye,
Todd Terry,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Divine Comedy,
48th St. Collective,
The Red Krayola,
the Soft Cell,
The Pop Group,
John Coltrane,
Los Fastidios,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Oneida,
Brick,
Sun City Girls,
The Star Department,
Spoonie Gee,
Ronan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Piero Umiliani,
Heaven 17,
Magma,
The Residents,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.