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 Dominica and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the electroclash 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sun City Girls,
Make Up,
Yusef Lateef,
The Gories,
Radiohead,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Misunderstood,
Lakeside,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Sound,
Pussy Galore,
Fugazi,
the Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
Technova,
Sugar Minott,
Magazine,
AZ,
Scan 7,
Arcadia,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rod Modell,
David Axelrod,
Kenny Larkin,
Pere Ubu,
Juan Atkins,
Stiv Bators,
Bill Near,
Boredoms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Roxette,
Gang Green,
Oneida,
Pagans,
The Toasters,
June Days,
Aloha Tigers,
Metal Thangz,
Warren Ellis,
The Offenders,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Move,
Public Enemy,
Todd Terry,
Leonard Cohen,
The Moody Blues,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Essential Logic,
Skaos,
Fela Kuti,
The Motions,
Subhumans,
Schoolly D,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter & Gordon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camberwell Now,
CMW,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.