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 Bangladesh and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Salvador.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Johnny Osbourne to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Average White Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Eating Sloth,
Basic Channel,
Fatback Band,
Dawn Penn,
The Searchers,
Ken Boothe,
Newcleus,
Aaron Thompson,
Das Ding,
U.S. Maple,
Vainqueur,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks,
JFA,
The Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
Lower 48,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Modern Lovers,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
Groovy Waters,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Siglo XX,
H. Thieme,
The Blackbyrds,
Dark Day,
Whodini,
Howard Jones,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wolf Eyes,
Country Teasers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flipper,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
48th St. Collective,
Los Fastidios,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marmalade,
Peter and Kerry,
The Names,
Metal Thangz,
Massinfluence,
Rapeman,
Hardrive,
The Misunderstood,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jacques Brel,
Patti Smith,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
X-102,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Isaac Hayes,
Carl Craig,
Fear,
Babytalk,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.