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 Malawi and from Portland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Peter and Kerry to the electroclash 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 The Zeros. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Little Man,
The Five Americans,
Ossler,
Glambeats Corp.,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sun City Girls,
Lyres,
David McCallum,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Remains,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Alison Limerick,
Junior Murvin,
Fatback Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Saints,
Bauhaus,
Rapeman,
The Real Kids,
Youth Brigade,
Michelle Simonal,
Sparks,
The Litter,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
JFA,
Television,
Faust,
AZ,
Archie Shepp,
Aloha Tigers,
Robert Wyatt,
Livin' Joy,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Slits,
The Gladiators,
Nick Fraelich,
Goldenarms,
Nation of Ulysses,
Marvin Gaye,
H. Thieme,
Pantytec,
Jimmy McGriff,
Traffic Nightmare,
Graham Central Station,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Hasil Adkins,
Fad Gadget,
Spoonie Gee,
These Immortal Souls,
The Beau Brummels,
Drive Like Jehu,
EPMD,
Gang Green,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.