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 Nicaragua and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the güiro 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the funk 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glambeats Corp.,
John Coltrane,
The Smoke,
Wire,
Joy Division,
Joe Finger,
New Order,
Camouflage,
Eve St. Jones,
John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Vainqueur,
The Remains,
Grey Daturas,
Frankie Knuckles,
Idris Muhammad,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
a-ha,
Cameo,
Tres Demented,
The Motions,
The Beau Brummels,
China Crisis,
Rekid,
Babytalk,
Kerri Chandler,
Funkadelic,
Soul II Soul,
Fela Kuti,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Five Americans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Hood,
The Gun Club,
Gong,
The Durutti Column,
Rites of Spring,
Blossom Toes,
Dave Gahan,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronnie Foster,
The Real Kids,
Wasted Youth,
Public Image Ltd.,
Zapp,
David McCallum,
Y Pants,
The Sonics,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rakim,
Gabor Szabo,
Aswad,
Von Mondo,
Lou Reed,
Chrome,
ABC,
Moebius,
The Dirtbombs,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Carl Craig,
Harry Pussy,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.