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 Equatorial Guinea and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sun Ra to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
Al Stewart,
Television,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sun Ra,
Godley & Creme,
Yusef Lateef,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jacques Brel,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Victims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tubeway Army,
Dual Sessions,
Jesper Dahlback,
Eve St. Jones,
Youth Brigade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Shadows of Knight,
The United States of America,
Todd Terry,
The Blackbyrds,
Wally Richardson,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
Fat Boys,
Joey Negro,
T.S.O.L.,
Unwound,
Darondo,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Pus,
Monolake,
Graham Central Station,
Q and Not U,
Marshall Jefferson,
OOIOO,
Black Bananas,
Simply Red,
Tears for Fears,
Magazine,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fugs,
Model 500,
Yazoo,
Lebanon Hanover,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scion,
Royal Trux,
Sex Pistols,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nico,
Mary Jane Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Rekid,
Absolute Body Control,
Fluxion,
The Sound,
David Bowie,
Infiniti,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.