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 Cuba and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 American Breed to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Andrew Hill. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Depeche Mode,
Moby Grape,
EPMD,
Sun City Girls,
E-Dancer,
Quando Quango,
Minnie Riperton,
Sam Rivers,
Vladislav Delay,
Howard Jones,
Smog,
Aswad,
Los Fastidios,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Con Funk Shun,
Ken Boothe,
The Last Poets,
Funkadelic,
Chris & Cosey,
Circle Jerks,
Animal Collective,
Bizarre Inc.,
Reuben Wilson,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sun Ra,
Tommy Roe,
Erasure,
Soul II Soul,
Tubeway Army,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chrome,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arthur Verocai,
Rapeman,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tom Boy,
the Normal,
The American Breed,
Don Cherry,
Simply Red,
Procol Harum,
Magazine,
A Certain Ratio,
The Residents,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Neil Young,
Theoretical Girls,
Metal Thangz,
Tears for Fears,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Organ,
Ponytail,
The Five Americans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.