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 Papua New Guinea and from Philadelphia.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Faust to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lungfish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Moby Grape,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Radio Birdman,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Cale,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ornette Coleman,
Wasted Youth,
Visage,
Easy Going,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
Toni Rubio,
Cybotron,
Second Layer,
Ten City,
Funky Four + One,
Eden Ahbez,
Angry Samoans,
Television Personalities,
The Vogues,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
David Axelrod,
the Bar-Kays,
Groovy Waters,
Tom Boy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Nico,
Maurizio,
Kerri Chandler,
Kayak,
In Retrospect,
Minny Pops,
Sun City Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Yaz,
Unwound,
Deadbeat,
Vladislav Delay,
World's Most,
Circle Jerks,
Chrome,
Liliput,
Glambeats Corp.,
Youth Brigade,
Los Fastidios,
CMW,
Yazoo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Foxx,
Das Ding,
Nick Fraelich,
The Cure,
Niagra,
Peter & Gordon,
Godley & Creme,
Subhumans,
Camouflage,
Scott Walker,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.