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 Venezuela and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 48th St. Collective. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids 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?
Wolf Eyes,
Derrick Morgan,
Ornette Coleman,
Country Teasers,
Juan Atkins,
Scratch Acid,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dirtbombs,
U.S. Maple,
Chris Corsano,
Morten Harket,
Liliput,
Blancmange,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Velvet Underground,
Ponytail,
New York Dolls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eric Dolphy,
Bill Near,
Cecil Taylor,
Peter & Gordon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Derrick May,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
La Düsseldorf,
Dawn Penn,
Sällskapet,
Letta Mbulu,
Mr. Review,
Pylon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harry Pussy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Monolake,
Donald Byrd,
Mad Mike,
Eddi Front,
Ronnie Foster,
Tubeway Army,
Reagan Youth,
Maleditus Sound,
The Misunderstood,
The Human League,
Peter and Kerry,
The Pretty Things,
Jacob Miller,
The Buckinghams,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Suburban Knight,
The Offenders,
Jeff Lynne,
Sonic Youth,
Metal Thangz,
The Mojo Men,
The Skatalites,
F. McDonald,
Thee Headcoats,
Bob Dylan,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.