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 Marshall Islands and from Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 La Düsseldorf to the jazz 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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Jerry's Kids,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Todd Terry,
The Beau Brummels,
Fad Gadget,
Erykah Badu,
Mary Jane Girls,
Tom Boy,
Half Japanese,
Outsiders,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Anthony Braxton,
Fatback Band,
Moss Icon,
Laurel Aitken,
Kayak,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aloha Tigers,
The Vogues,
Nas,
Fat Boys,
Stetsasonic,
The Toasters,
B.T. Express,
Clear Light,
Minnie Riperton,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hot Snakes,
Joyce Sims,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Wake,
The Sonics,
Chris Corsano,
Gabor Szabo,
Porter Ricks,
The Fire Engines,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Unrelated Segments,
Yaz,
Sound Behaviour,
Lungfish,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eden Ahbez,
Nik Kershaw,
Silicon Teens,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare,
Kool Moe Dee,
Subhumans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Y Pants,
Joe Finger,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.