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 Grenada and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 48th St. Collective 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 Warsaw. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Leaves 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?
Andrew Hill,
Brand Nubian,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Monolake,
Cymande,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Almond,
The New Christs,
Matthew Bourne,
Henry Cow,
Camouflage,
Loose Ends,
Cecil Taylor,
The Gories,
Mars,
kango's stein massive,
Faraquet,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Move,
Sex Pistols,
Deakin,
Amon Düül II,
Malaria!,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fire Engines,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soul II Soul,
Fugazi,
Peter & Gordon,
Accadde A,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Girls At Our Best!,
UT,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tomorrow,
Gang of Four,
Bobby Sherman,
The Black Dice,
Surgeon,
Warren Ellis,
Skriet,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Electric Prunes,
Bill Wells,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bronski Beat,
The Moody Blues,
Q and Not U,
Icehouse,
Electric Prunes,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tears for Fears,
Organ,
Man Parrish,
Alton Ellis,
The Music Machine,
Saccharine Trust,
Section 25,
CMW,
Dorothy Ashby,
D'Angelo,
Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke, Johnny Clarke.
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.