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 Burkina and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 clarinet 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 Eve St. Jones to the jazz 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s 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 The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Scrapy,
Excepter,
Eve St. Jones,
Fela Kuti,
Rekid,
Rites of Spring,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Supertramp,
Thee Headcoats,
The Buckinghams,
Sam Rivers,
Quadrant,
UT,
Minnie Riperton,
World's Most,
The Names,
Eddi Front,
Tubeway Army,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blancmange,
David Axelrod,
The Divine Comedy,
Godley & Creme,
New York Dolls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Grass Roots,
Lightning Bolt,
OOIOO,
Sonny Sharrock,
Henry Cow,
Ludus,
Easy Going,
Fluxion,
Black Bananas,
Wolf Eyes,
Unwound,
Rapeman,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Funky Four + One,
Judy Mowatt,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
The American Breed,
One Last Wish,
Moby Grape,
Aural Exciters,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.