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 Bahrain and from Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Johannesburg.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Magazine to the grunge 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Near record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum 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 rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
Cameo,
Darondo,
KRS-One,
Symarip,
Bronski Beat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Talk Talk,
The United States of America,
Fluxion,
Livin' Joy,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
Hardrive,
Radiopuhelimet,
Television Personalities,
Hasil Adkins,
Guru Guru,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Big Daddy Kane,
Juan Atkins,
The Dirtbombs,
a-ha,
Wasted Youth,
Nico,
Carl Craig,
Moby Grape,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dark Day,
Roxy Music,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eve St. Jones,
DJ Style,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Leaves,
The Move,
Terry Callier,
Graham Central Station,
Scientists,
Lucky Dragons,
Newcleus,
Grauzone,
Fela Kuti,
the Sonics,
Icehouse,
Harpers Bizarre,
Agent Orange,
The Smiths,
Goldenarms,
Shoche,
MC5,
Idris Muhammad,
Lee Hazlewood,
Barry Ungar,
the Human League,
Don Cherry,
Average White Band,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.