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 Guinea-Bissau and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 organ 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 H. Thieme to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Fuzztones,
Camouflage,
Mission of Burma,
Drive Like Jehu,
Make Up,
Amon Düül,
The Cure,
Television,
The Doors,
Sam Rivers,
Gong,
The Zeros,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reagan Youth,
Gang Starr,
Sight & Sound,
Sonic Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
Al Stewart,
China Crisis,
Inner City,
Rakim,
Second Layer,
Swell Maps,
Bill Wells,
The Litter,
Y Pants,
Quantec,
Das Ding,
Absolute Body Control,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bill Near,
Tubeway Army,
Slick Rick,
Q and Not U,
Roxette,
Josef K,
Flamin' Groovies,
Crime,
The Music Machine,
Jacob Miller,
Gang of Four,
Hashim,
The Golliwogs,
Flash Fearless,
Eden Ahbez,
Aswad,
Spandau Ballet,
Trumans Water,
The Saints,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Vladislav Delay,
The Dirtbombs,
Country Joe & The Fish,
These Immortal Souls,
Echospace,
The Busters,
Cluster,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.