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 Bahamas and from Accra.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Skaos to the techno 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Kevin Saunderson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ken Boothe,
Dead Boys,
Nils Olav,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scion,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sixth Finger,
Todd Rundgren,
K-Klass,
The American Breed,
New York Dolls,
Severed Heads,
Stetsasonic,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-101,
Barrington Levy,
Mars,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Maleditus Sound,
World's Most,
Fear,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Funkadelic,
Hashim,
Alphaville,
Boz Scaggs,
Max Romeo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Popol Vuh,
Gastr Del Sol,
Television Personalities,
Sex Pistols,
The Pretty Things,
A Certain Ratio,
Magma,
Derrick May,
The Dave Clark Five,
Second Layer,
Boredoms,
Talk Talk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joyce Sims,
Jesper Dahlback,
Chrome,
The Index,
The Smiths,
Bill Near,
Kaleidoscope,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lou Reed,
Amazonics,
Johnny Clarke,
The Invisible,
Zero Boys,
Rapeman,
Eric Copeland,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bobby Byrd,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Donald Byrd,
B.T. Express,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.