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 Madagascar and from Houston.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sex Pistols to the rap 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Terry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Divine Comedy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Stiv Bators,
Bobby Womack,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Gories,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
These Immortal Souls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Little Man,
Gabor Szabo,
Moss Icon,
Panda Bear,
the Bar-Kays,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Lalann,
Anakelly,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Trojans,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Rakim,
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Hutcherson,
kango's stein massive,
Erykah Badu,
Porter Ricks,
Ultravox,
Swans,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare,
The Stooges,
Public Image Ltd.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Wake,
Rapeman,
Yaz,
Kenny Larkin,
Ronnie Foster,
The Index,
Amazonics,
The Happenings,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
Brand Nubian,
Kas Product,
The Fall,
Skarface,
Skriet,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Trumans Water,
Jacques Brel,
Banda Bassotti,
Flash Fearless,
Schoolly D,
Crooked Eye,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Delta 5,
Jerry's Kids,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kerrie Biddell,
Colin Newman,
Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth, Wasted Youth.
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.