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 Chile and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vladislav Delay record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Shoche,
Brass Construction,
Lalo Schifrin,
Oblivians,
Rosa Yemen,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pantytec,
Scrapy,
Mantronix,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Monochrome Set,
Vladislav Delay,
the Sonics,
Derrick Morgan,
Letta Mbulu,
Faraquet,
Can,
Visage,
Khruangbin,
T.S.O.L.,
Peter and Kerry,
Black Moon,
Section 25,
X-102,
Davy DMX,
The Blues Magoos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Howard Jones,
Drexciya,
Qualms,
The Blackbyrds,
Tubeway Army,
Mandrill,
Magma,
Vainqueur,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Smiths,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barrington Levy,
Max Romeo,
Isaac Hayes,
Althea and Donna,
Faust,
Swans,
The Star Department,
Albert Ayler,
Young Marble Giants,
Aswad,
T. Rex,
Schoolly D,
Country Teasers,
Brick,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Mojo Men,
Nick Fraelich,
Ituana,
The United States of America,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Colin Newman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.