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 Morocco and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
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 mellotron 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 Los Fastidios to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Skriet,
Donald Byrd,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Cowsills,
Scion,
The Barracudas,
the Germs,
Jeff Lynne,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mission of Burma,
Parry Music,
Pharoah Sanders,
Johnny Clarke,
Lungfish,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sam Rivers,
Bush Tetras,
Blossom Toes,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
the Soft Cell,
Rufus Thomas,
New York Dolls,
New Age Steppers,
Smog,
The Modern Lovers,
the Association,
The Stooges,
Gichy Dan,
Pantytec,
T. Rex,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Bananas,
Magazine,
Suicide,
Delta 5,
Steve Hackett,
The Pop Group,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ronnie Foster,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Black Pus,
DNA,
Delon & Dalcan,
Erykah Badu,
Scrapy,
Kenny Larkin,
The American Breed,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Prince Buster,
Khruangbin,
Man Parrish,
Ponytail,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Byrd,
Bauhaus,
Panda Bear,
Essential Logic,
The Seeds,
Popol Vuh,
The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones, The Fuzztones.
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.