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 Cameroon and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Delhi.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Spoonie Gee to the electroclash 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kenny Larkin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Junior Murvin,
cv313,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeff Lynne,
Aaron Thompson,
Judy Mowatt,
Kayak,
Kas Product,
Bobby Byrd,
Ice-T,
Rakim,
Eddi Front,
Sparks,
FM Einheit,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lou Reed,
Drexciya,
Desert Stars,
The Velvet Underground,
Ohio Players,
June of 44,
Barrington Levy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mantronix,
Camouflage,
The Index,
The Stooges,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Sound,
Rapeman,
Procol Harum,
Fad Gadget,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
F. McDonald,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Throbbing Gristle,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Stiv Bators,
Oneida,
Barclay James Harvest,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Boz Scaggs,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Remains,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Masters at Work,
Symarip,
Deadbeat,
The Doobie Brothers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
New Age Steppers,
Surgeon,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Barracudas,
the Human League,
the Bar-Kays,
The Modern Lovers,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.