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 Kyrgyzstan and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Magma to the punk 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
Urselle,
Faraquet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Iggy Pop,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eric B and Rakim,
Nico,
Subhumans,
Eurythmics,
Mr. Review,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Albert Ayler,
Gang of Four,
Reuben Wilson,
Josef K,
Fugazi,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bad Manners,
Sight & Sound,
Make Up,
The Smoke,
The Cowsills,
ABBA,
The Kinks,
Procol Harum,
Sixth Finger,
Neil Young,
The Modern Lovers,
Warren Ellis,
Clear Light,
Faust,
Funky Four + One,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scan 7,
The Mojo Men,
B.T. Express,
Fluxion,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Five Americans,
Carl Craig,
Lalann,
Altered Images,
Q and Not U,
Shuggie Otis,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Swans,
Negative Approach,
Nas,
the Slits,
China Crisis,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Stooges,
Franke,
The Divine Comedy,
Whodini,
Japan,
Public Enemy,
Youth Brigade,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.