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 Haiti and from Beijing.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Nas to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
CMW,
Juan Atkins,
Popol Vuh,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Trumans Water,
The Sonics,
Inner City,
Heaven 17,
Mission of Burma,
Gerry Rafferty,
F. McDonald,
Monks,
Sun Ra,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jacques Brel,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tropical Tobacco,
Yellowson,
Nik Kershaw,
Silicon Teens,
The Detroit Cobras,
John Holt,
Michelle Simonal,
Hoover,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Fortunes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Black Sheep,
Faraquet,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Soft Cell,
Scratch Acid,
Nation of Ulysses,
Franke,
The American Breed,
Freddie Wadling,
The Modern Lovers,
Electric Prunes,
Todd Rundgren,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Joe Finger,
Deakin,
Scion,
Oblivians,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ronan,
Patti Smith,
Warren Ellis,
Joensuu 1685,
Ultravox,
The Barracudas,
Swell Maps,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Grauzone,
Arcadia,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.