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 Belgium and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Theoretical Girls 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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Gang Green,
Brothers Johnson,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Hoover,
June of 44,
Warsaw,
Bobby Byrd,
Lou Reed,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mo-Dettes,
Mad Mike,
Stockholm Monsters,
Niagra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cal Tjader,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deakin,
Janne Schatter,
Quadrant,
Lower 48,
Yellowson,
The Martian,
Dave Gahan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Brick,
Drexciya,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aaron Thompson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Jesper Dahlback,
E-Dancer,
Mission of Burma,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Invisible,
Isaac Hayes,
A Certain Ratio,
B.T. Express,
Black Sheep,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Black Dice,
The Happenings,
The Moleskins,
Eli Mardock,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Eddi Front,
Monks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Black Pus,
Reuben Wilson,
Infiniti,
The Velvet Underground,
The J.B.'s,
Magma,
Ituana,
Fatback Band,
One Last Wish,
Prince Buster,
Q65,
Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo, Max Romeo.
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.