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 Albania 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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the guitar 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the punk 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Main Source,
Excepter,
Idris Muhammad,
Camouflage,
Sun Ra,
Swans,
Tom Boy,
Derrick Morgan,
Peter & Gordon,
Index,
Average White Band,
the Normal,
Inner City,
Young Marble Giants,
Yusef Lateef,
Vladislav Delay,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sam Rivers,
Qualms,
The Kinks,
Cal Tjader,
Robert Wyatt,
Lebanon Hanover,
Todd Rundgren,
The Buckinghams,
Roxette,
Iggy Pop,
Y Pants,
Ludus,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Victims,
The Saints,
The Gap Band,
Blossom Toes,
Joy Division,
Drexciya,
Mad Mike,
Mark Hollis,
Accadde A,
Newcleus,
The Remains,
The Durutti Column,
The Doors,
Nick Fraelich,
Talk Talk,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronnie Foster,
The Dirtbombs,
Graham Central Station,
DNA,
Sonic Youth,
Mars,
Freddie Wadling,
Wally Richardson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Michelle Simonal,
Steve Hackett,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Half Japanese,
Arthur Verocai,
June Days,
The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers, The Modern Lovers.
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.