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 Andorra and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the marimba 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 Barrington Levy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sarah Menescal,
Q and Not U,
Ultra Naté,
Fugazi,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Todd Terry,
The Red Krayola,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Womack,
New York Dolls,
The Dead C,
Oblivians,
Rod Modell,
MC5,
Cluster,
Joy Division,
Arcadia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dark Day,
Infiniti,
Althea and Donna,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Chris Corsano,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Zeros,
Hashim,
Motorama,
Deepchord,
Jacques Brel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cybotron,
Accadde A,
Crime,
These Immortal Souls,
Jandek,
Quantec,
Alton Ellis,
Cheater Slicks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yusef Lateef,
Lou Reed,
The Invisible,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Motions,
Joyce Sims,
Black Moon,
The Techniques,
Groovy Waters,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rekid,
The American Breed,
Malaria!,
Angry Samoans,
Vainqueur,
Spoonie Gee,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pulsallama,
Terrestrial Tones,
Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction, Brass Construction.
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.