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 Burundi and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Royal Trux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Cheater Slicks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deepchord,
Morten Harket,
Jacques Brel,
Bad Manners,
Mark Hollis,
Ludus,
Connie Case,
Theoretical Girls,
Roxette,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jawbox,
Rites of Spring,
The Wake,
Johnny Clarke,
Ituana,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Rosa Yemen,
The Slackers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sex Pistols,
Flipper,
Arab on Radar,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
New Age Steppers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare,
Bill Near,
Zero Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Peter & Gordon,
Boz Scaggs,
Terry Callier,
The Offenders,
Kenny Larkin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bronski Beat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Banda Bassotti,
June Days,
Skriet,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pet Shop Boys,
X-102,
Con Funk Shun,
Al Stewart,
The Raincoats,
Gichy Dan,
Animal Collective,
Althea and Donna,
Michelle Simonal,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Maleditus Sound,
Mars,
Los Fastidios,
Skarface,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.