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 Belarus and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Godley & Creme 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joyce Sims,
The Buckinghams,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The American Breed,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Funky Four + One,
The Cure,
Yazoo,
Erykah Badu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Association,
Sonic Youth,
The Selecter,
Motorama,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Kinks,
Chris Corsano,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Andrew Hill,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Erasure,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
The Martian,
Rotary Connection,
Ludus,
Alton Ellis,
The Monks,
Dawn Penn,
Q65,
Howard Jones,
a-ha,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crispian St. Peters,
Theoretical Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Althea and Donna,
Frankie Knuckles,
Agitation Free,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
Stetsasonic,
Letta Mbulu,
The Zeros,
Panda Bear,
Ice-T,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sällskapet,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Byron Stingily,
Quando Quango,
Scrapy,
Cheater Slicks,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.