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 Lesotho and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 güiro 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 The Young Rascals to the jazz 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 Sonics. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Donald Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Tom Boy,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Real Kids,
Alphaville,
The Move,
The Evens,
Lightning Bolt,
Althea and Donna,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Organ,
Ten City,
The Durutti Column,
Supertramp,
The Offenders,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy Collins,
Pulsallama,
Kevin Saunderson,
Symarip,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gun Club,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
This Heat,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Colin Newman,
the Soft Cell,
The Golliwogs,
a-ha,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kayak,
The Motions,
Grey Daturas,
Todd Rundgren,
Wire,
The Gories,
Amon Düül II,
Al Stewart,
Rosa Yemen,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lower 48,
Blossom Toes,
Sällskapet,
Bush Tetras,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Andrew Hill,
Agent Orange,
Pole,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Near,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deakin,
Robert Hood,
The Cure,
Zero Boys,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pylon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Michelle Simonal,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.