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 Antigua and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Vainqueur to the punk 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Maleditus Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Leaves,
Alison Limerick,
Malaria!,
The Motions,
Brand Nubian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Deepchord,
The Seeds,
Franke,
Scott Walker,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Nils Olav,
Yellowson,
Wolf Eyes,
X-Ray Spex,
Nik Kershaw,
The Searchers,
Carl Craig,
The Kinks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flash Fearless,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tim Buckley,
Dark Day,
Oneida,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Foxx,
Dawn Penn,
Nation of Ulysses,
Todd Terry,
Tubeway Army,
Saccharine Trust,
Unrelated Segments,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gong,
The Wake,
Aloha Tigers,
New Age Steppers,
the Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Organ,
The Durutti Column,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Cure,
Animal Collective,
Davy DMX,
Supertramp,
The Fire Engines,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Technova,
Los Fastidios,
The American Breed,
Tomorrow,
Sarah Menescal,
Peter and Kerry,
Radiohead,
kango's stein massive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Anthony Braxton,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.