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 Tuvalu and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 Crispian St. Peters to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Index,
Eden Ahbez,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soft Cell,
the Bar-Kays,
The Happenings,
Alphaville,
Erasure,
The Residents,
Franke,
Pulsallama,
Bob Dylan,
The Tremeloes,
Rosa Yemen,
Byron Stingily,
Black Pus,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Deakin,
Jawbox,
Gil Scott Heron,
Todd Terry,
Eurythmics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
L. Decosne,
Organ,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Donny Hathaway,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Quantec,
Carl Craig,
Qualms,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
These Immortal Souls,
Skaos,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Hood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eli Mardock,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Chris Corsano,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Swans,
In Retrospect,
Dawn Penn,
Rakim,
Alison Limerick,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Kaleidoscope,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Real Kids,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Blackbyrds,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Association,
Marc Almond,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.