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 Andorra and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 X-Ray Spex to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Parry Music 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Young Rascals,
10cc,
Mad Mike,
Bush Tetras,
The Sonics,
Das Ding,
Groovy Waters,
Theoretical Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fad Gadget,
Stetsasonic,
Dual Sessions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
Infiniti,
Barrington Levy,
Scratch Acid,
Khruangbin,
The Stooges,
Sam Rivers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Gang Dance,
Cheater Slicks,
The Trojans,
B.T. Express,
Crooked Eye,
Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
Donald Byrd,
Funkadelic,
Public Enemy,
The Offenders,
Gichy Dan,
Bang On A Can,
Nico,
Qualms,
The Detroit Cobras,
Faust,
Sarah Menescal,
the Bar-Kays,
These Immortal Souls,
Fluxion,
Kenny Larkin,
Youth Brigade,
Lakeside,
Shuggie Otis,
Lyres,
Popol Vuh,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Andrew Hill,
The Gladiators,
Sound Behaviour,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang Green,
Aswad,
Motorama,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Massinfluence,
Porter Ricks,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.