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 Kiribati and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 808 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 Crooked Eye to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Residents,
Steve Hackett,
The Fortunes,
Sugar Minott,
Bad Manners,
The Smoke,
Maurizio,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pere Ubu,
DJ Sneak,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
New Age Steppers,
Wally Richardson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Whodini,
Ponytail,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Trojans,
Mission of Burma,
Pussy Galore,
the Swans,
Brothers Johnson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Todd Terry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Danielle Patucci,
Swans,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ronnie Foster,
Los Fastidios,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Raincoats,
Brick,
Pierre Henry,
Theoretical Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Electric Prunes,
Lindisfarne,
Audionom,
Drexciya,
Grandmaster Flash,
Little Man,
Laurel Aitken,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gabor Szabo,
Roxette,
Reagan Youth,
Idris Muhammad,
Jesper Dahlback,
Neil Young,
The Cowsills,
Bill Near,
Susan Cadogan,
Guru Guru,
Josef K,
The Toasters,
Dual Sessions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rekid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Normal,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.