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 Turkey and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the techno 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All The New Christs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Blake Baxter 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?
Roxy Music,
The Remains,
Minnie Riperton,
Barry Ungar,
the Germs,
Andrew Hill,
Stiv Bators,
Panda Bear,
The Slackers,
Yusef Lateef,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deepchord,
Swell Maps,
A Certain Ratio,
The Divine Comedy,
Prince Buster,
Guru Guru,
Flash Fearless,
Liliput,
Thee Headcoats,
Rod Modell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pere Ubu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Agent Orange,
Slick Rick,
Don Cherry,
Anakelly,
Average White Band,
Mark Hollis,
Harry Pussy,
The Birthday Party,
Whodini,
Roy Ayers,
Tomorrow,
Cabaret Voltaire,
D'Angelo,
F. McDonald,
Grey Daturas,
Inner City,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Maurizio,
Jacques Brel,
Hoover,
Model 500,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Crime,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kas Product,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Idris Muhammad,
Skriet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Green,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bob Dylan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Drexciya,
ABBA,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.