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 Slovenia and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Can 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Khruangbin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Dave Gahan,
Massinfluence,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dead C,
Boz Scaggs,
Jacques Brel,
the Human League,
Young Marble Giants,
MC5,
ABBA,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Motions,
Oblivians,
John Foxx,
Pussy Galore,
Grey Daturas,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fela Kuti,
Rod Modell,
the Sonics,
The Skatalites,
The Gap Band,
Davy DMX,
Sight & Sound,
Pantaleimon,
Anakelly,
Make Up,
Man Eating Sloth,
Altered Images,
Bush Tetras,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Wells,
The Index,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bad Manners,
Pantytec,
Liliput,
Johnny Clarke,
Faraquet,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Circle Jerks,
Arthur Verocai,
Thompson Twins,
Siglo XX,
Hot Snakes,
48th St. Collective,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott Heron,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Shadows of Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Guru Guru,
Moebius,
The Move,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.