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 Philippines and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Wake to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Eurythmics. All the underground hits.
All Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
The Last Poets,
Bang On A Can,
Q and Not U,
Peter and Kerry,
Procol Harum,
The Slackers,
Faust,
Jacques Brel,
Theoretical Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Soft Cell,
Nick Fraelich,
Hot Snakes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Fire Engines,
Jawbox,
Reuben Wilson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Trumans Water,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Litter,
David Bowie,
Basic Channel,
the Swans,
Tears for Fears,
These Immortal Souls,
10cc,
Rites of Spring,
Erasure,
Lakeside,
MC5,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Smiths,
Oneida,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Starr,
Zero Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
Bobby Sherman,
Dark Day,
Mantronix,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mad Mike,
Mark Hollis,
Camouflage,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ludus,
The Fuzztones,
Lyres,
Dead Boys,
Boredoms,
Gabor Szabo,
Grey Daturas,
Barclay James Harvest,
John Coltrane,
UT,
The Gun Club,
Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock, Strawberry Alarm Clock.
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.