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 Turkey and from London.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Fela Kuti 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 The Monochrome Set. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Cowsills,
The Mojo Men,
Pylon,
Donny Hathaway,
Das Ding,
Swell Maps,
Agent Orange,
Davy DMX,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brothers Johnson,
Audionom,
Letta Mbulu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Derrick Morgan,
Sun Ra,
Zapp,
Pussy Galore,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lungfish,
Robert Wyatt,
Steve Hackett,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cheater Slicks,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Slits,
The Pretty Things,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Drexciya,
Harry Pussy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Frankie Knuckles,
Chrome,
Patti Smith,
Gang Green,
LL Cool J,
Bluetip,
The Move,
Shoche,
Roxy Music,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Susan Cadogan,
The Last Poets,
Freddie Wadling,
Banda Bassotti,
Warsaw,
Quantec,
The Misunderstood,
The Mummies,
Toni Rubio,
Excepter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Khruangbin,
Yaz,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gabor Szabo,
Prince Buster,
Iggy Pop,
Althea and Donna,
K-Klass,
Pagans,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.