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 Colombia and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Jawbox to the rap 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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Blake Baxter,
Quadrant,
Symarip,
Parry Music,
Rufus Thomas,
Toni Rubio,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lungfish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Five Americans,
John Holt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Womack,
Dead Boys,
Mission of Burma,
Bill Wells,
Television Personalities,
Intrusion,
The Grass Roots,
Cecil Taylor,
Yellowson,
Y Pants,
Von Mondo,
The Gories,
Skriet,
Banda Bassotti,
Bizarre Inc.,
Todd Terry,
Swans,
Brass Construction,
Spoonie Gee,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pantytec,
Rapeman,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Inner City,
One Last Wish,
The Fortunes,
The Angels of Light,
Arab on Radar,
Don Cherry,
Aswad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Reuben Wilson,
The Smoke,
Crash Course in Science,
Radiohead,
Barry Ungar,
Eli Mardock,
Scion,
Althea and Donna,
Lalann,
48th St. Collective,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Yusef Lateef,
The Names,
Fat Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Infiniti,
The Victims,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.