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 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer 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 The Fugs to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Yellowson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sister Nancy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Nation of Ulysses,
Pere Ubu,
Lalann,
Crispy Ambulance,
Moebius,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Pus,
Subhumans,
The Detroit Cobras,
These Immortal Souls,
B.T. Express,
OOIOO,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Cure,
Symarip,
Fatback Band,
Tres Demented,
The Names,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang On A Can,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Sheep,
DNA,
Glambeats Corp.,
Zero Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cluster,
John Cale,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Knickerbockers,
Sällskapet,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cheater Slicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Aaron Thompson,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Au Pairs,
Pussy Galore,
PIL,
The Gun Club,
Livin' Joy,
Terrestrial Tones,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cameo,
The Smiths,
Crash Course in Science,
Lucky Dragons,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Misunderstood,
The Searchers,
Al Stewart,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Spandau Ballet,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.