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 Estonia and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Lalo Schifrin to the jazz 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Fatback Band,
Smog,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Henry Cow,
Brick,
Sam Rivers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marc Almond,
Guru Guru,
Amazonics,
Popol Vuh,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Swell Maps,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Underground Resistance,
Radiohead,
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Flag,
Moby Grape,
Malaria!,
Tomorrow,
Altered Images,
Funkadelic,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Dave Clark Five,
Robert Görl,
The Red Krayola,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Moon,
Bob Dylan,
X-Ray Spex,
Outsiders,
X-102,
Kerri Chandler,
Y Pants,
Vainqueur,
Tim Buckley,
The Residents,
Zero Boys,
Dead Boys,
Hasil Adkins,
Rosa Yemen,
Aural Exciters,
Soulsonic Force,
Delta 5,
Lucky Dragons,
David Axelrod,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Smiths,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dorothy Ashby,
Chrome,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dual Sessions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Au Pairs,
Rapeman,
Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones, Terrestrial Tones.
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.