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 Sudan and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Black Sheep to the dance 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
the Germs,
Sixth Finger,
The Stooges,
Barclay James Harvest,
Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Don Cherry,
Bush Tetras,
Sight & Sound,
Gong,
The Count Five,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Neu!,
LL Cool J,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Basic Channel,
Marine Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Technova,
The Modern Lovers,
Urselle,
X-101,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Graham Central Station,
OOIOO,
Visage,
These Immortal Souls,
Mo-Dettes,
Massinfluence,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott Heron,
Kayak,
Judy Mowatt,
The Golliwogs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terrestrial Tones,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Janne Schatter,
The Misunderstood,
Chris Corsano,
The Dirtbombs,
The Dead C,
Blossom Toes,
Flipper,
Young Marble Giants,
Sparks,
The Gap Band,
The Five Americans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aloha Tigers,
Rites of Spring,
Eddi Front,
Althea and Donna,
Drexciya,
D'Angelo,
The Litter,
Ice-T,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.