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 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Sao Paulo.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bang On A Can to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a theremin 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 clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Al Stewart,
Deakin,
The Selecter,
Kurtis Blow,
a-ha,
Robert Wyatt,
OOIOO,
Jesper Dahlback,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
JFA,
The Doobie Brothers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Velvet Underground,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Howard Jones,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Oneida,
These Immortal Souls,
Rotary Connection,
Negative Approach,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gun Club,
Don Cherry,
The Durutti Column,
Public Enemy,
Suicide,
Stockholm Monsters,
James White and The Blacks,
Arab on Radar,
Kaleidoscope,
Colin Newman,
The Index,
Scientists,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cecil Taylor,
Lalann,
Nation of Ulysses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New Order,
Pagans,
New Age Steppers,
Blake Baxter,
The Cramps,
Michelle Simonal,
New York Dolls,
Roger Hodgson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Slits,
Dave Gahan,
Henry Cow,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Blackbyrds,
Camouflage,
Gil Scott Heron,
Unwound,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.