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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Masters at Work to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Panda Bear,
Average White Band,
DJ Style,
Tomorrow,
Index,
EPMD,
The Selecter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marine Girls,
Angry Samoans,
Little Man,
The Music Machine,
John Holt,
Ultra Naté,
Max Romeo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lakeside,
Sixth Finger,
Bauhaus,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter & Gordon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
One Last Wish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Womack,
The Fortunes,
Radio Birdman,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lalo Schifrin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barry Ungar,
Letta Mbulu,
Wasted Youth,
Eric Dolphy,
June of 44,
Bobby Byrd,
Spoonie Gee,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sex Pistols,
Trumans Water,
Echospace,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Zeros,
Pharoah Sanders,
Nico,
Sonny Sharrock,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fugazi,
Graham Central Station,
Sarah Menescal,
Albert Ayler,
Morten Harket,
Iggy Pop,
F. McDonald,
The Fall,
OOIOO,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fatback Band,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.