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 Lithuania and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet 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 arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ultimate Spinach,
Don Cherry,
Brothers Johnson,
Popol Vuh,
Grandmaster Flash,
X-102,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Section 25,
Pere Ubu,
Babytalk,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Coltrane,
Bizarre Inc.,
10cc,
Excepter,
One Last Wish,
Icehouse,
The Neon Judgement,
Siglo XX,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skarface,
The American Breed,
Minutemen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Standells,
The Residents,
LL Cool J,
Ice-T,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
DNA,
Sällskapet,
Funky Four + One,
Scientists,
Cameo,
Basic Channel,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Todd Rundgren,
Ornette Coleman,
Michelle Simonal,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Minny Pops,
Mantronix,
Lower 48,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Little Man,
Barrington Levy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Red Krayola,
Index,
These Immortal Souls,
Bauhaus,
Sonny Sharrock,
X-Ray Spex,
The Motions,
the Human League,
Eurythmics,
Mars,
Yusef Lateef,
Bronski Beat,
Arthur Verocai,
Can,
Ituana,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.