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 Kuwait and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Paris and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Clear Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Offenders,
The Star Department,
B.T. Express,
New Order,
Scientists,
Crime,
Yaz,
Minor Threat,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Seeds,
Spandau Ballet,
Junior Murvin,
Rites of Spring,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quadrant,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Peter & Gordon,
Funky Four + One,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Buckinghams,
Silicon Teens,
Lakeside,
Can,
The Litter,
Neil Young,
John Holt,
Neu!,
Glambeats Corp.,
Hashim,
Franke,
Drexciya,
Lungfish,
Arab on Radar,
8 Eyed Spy,
Essential Logic,
Toni Rubio,
Pylon,
Spoonie Gee,
The Residents,
Amon Düül II,
Half Japanese,
The Last Poets,
Quantec,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Golliwogs,
Ludus,
The Gories,
Brick,
Circle Jerks,
Tommy Roe,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Skatalites,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Animal Collective,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.