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 Malawi and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Qualms to the grunge 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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cosmic Jokers 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry Gold Smith,
Technova,
Alphaville,
Sight & Sound,
Zapp,
Brand Nubian,
Terrestrial Tones,
Fad Gadget,
A Certain Ratio,
Wire,
Ronnie Foster,
Joe Smooth,
Davy DMX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Derrick May,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ludus,
Gong,
FM Einheit,
The Blackbyrds,
Pere Ubu,
Quadrant,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bush Tetras,
Black Bananas,
The Remains,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fall,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Johnny Clarke,
X-101,
Ohio Players,
Soft Machine,
Tommy Roe,
The Barracudas,
Chrome,
Wings,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Dirtbombs,
Agitation Free,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Fire Engines,
Qualms,
Mr. Review,
Connie Case,
Sex Pistols,
Mantronix,
Piero Umiliani,
Underground Resistance,
the Sonics,
Smog,
Rotary Connection,
Carl Craig,
Pierre Henry,
the Swans,
The Monks,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.