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 Tonga and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Susan Cadogan to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fuzztones,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bang On A Can,
Barry Ungar,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
Panda Bear,
Matthew Bourne,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Zapp,
Marvin Gaye,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eden Ahbez,
Arthur Verocai,
Dead Boys,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eurythmics,
Bill Wells,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amazonics,
Absolute Body Control,
David McCallum,
Lalo Schifrin,
Mars,
Derrick May,
Grandmaster Flash,
John Holt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lucky Dragons,
Public Image Ltd.,
the Normal,
The Remains,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultimate Spinach,
Clear Light,
Ituana,
Grauzone,
Alphaville,
Hashim,
Tom Boy,
Leonard Cohen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Monks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Deakin,
Massinfluence,
Public Enemy,
the Slits,
Rotary Connection,
Drexciya,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
Faust,
The Skatalites,
Faraquet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Simply Red,
Laurel Aitken,
the Bar-Kays,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.