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 Togo and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Alarm Clocks to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 theremin and an organ 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 harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Nick Fraelich,
Main Source,
The Toasters,
Don Cherry,
The Sound,
Severed Heads,
Symarip,
Mission of Burma,
Joe Smooth,
Boredoms,
The Litter,
These Immortal Souls,
Cecil Taylor,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Technova,
Minutemen,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tears for Fears,
John Foxx,
Aural Exciters,
Sister Nancy,
Amon Düül II,
Con Funk Shun,
Wolf Eyes,
B.T. Express,
Todd Terry,
Black Sheep,
Metal Thangz,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang of Four,
Ice-T,
Joe Finger,
Radiopuhelimet,
T.S.O.L.,
Yusef Lateef,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Khruangbin,
Brand Nubian,
The Misunderstood,
Howard Jones,
Cybotron,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Althea and Donna,
Tubeway Army,
Radiohead,
Niagra,
David Axelrod,
Vainqueur,
Rekid,
Lee Hazlewood,
MC5,
Isaac Hayes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Country Teasers,
Deakin,
Freddie Wadling,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Seeds,
Fatback Band,
kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive, kango's stein massive.
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.