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 Liechtenstein and from Bremen.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the jazz 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 Funkadelic. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Boredoms,
The Motions,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Busters,
Roxy Music,
The Mojo Men,
T.S.O.L.,
Scott Walker,
Siglo XX,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Q65,
Michelle Simonal,
The Gladiators,
Rufus Thomas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Desert Stars,
Barry Ungar,
David Axelrod,
The Zeros,
the Slits,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacques Brel,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Dolphy,
The Monochrome Set,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fuzztones,
Stockholm Monsters,
ABBA,
Brothers Johnson,
Mr. Review,
The Standells,
The Velvet Underground,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Skriet,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Dark Day,
Ronan,
The Electric Prunes,
Little Man,
The Cure,
Dave Gahan,
Skarface,
The Happenings,
The Cosmic Jokers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fugs,
Robert Hood,
Erykah Badu,
Fela Kuti,
The Buckinghams,
The Birthday Party,
The American Breed,
Yaz,
Audionom,
The Walker Brothers,
Rekid,
The Move,
Lungfish,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.