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 Lebanon and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
The Sonics,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eve St. Jones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ken Boothe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
MC5,
Quadrant,
Harmonia,
Lucky Dragons,
Dorothy Ashby,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tears for Fears,
Pharoah Sanders,
Anakelly,
Matthew Bourne,
Eden Ahbez,
Darondo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABBA,
Chris Corsano,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris & Cosey,
The Slits,
Zero Boys,
Ohio Players,
Urselle,
Rapeman,
Arthur Verocai,
The Invisible,
Duran Duran,
Toni Rubio,
Scan 7,
The Leaves,
The Smiths,
The Cure,
Danielle Patucci,
The J.B.'s,
Skarface,
Drexciya,
Johnny Clarke,
The Monochrome Set,
Robert Wyatt,
Derrick Morgan,
Rosa Yemen,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barry Ungar,
The United States of America,
Eric Copeland,
Quando Quango,
Aaron Thompson,
Connie Case,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Durutti Column,
Agitation Free,
Half Japanese,
Amon Düül,
Malaria!,
Jawbox,
Heaven 17,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.