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 Brazil and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Vogues 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
The Red Krayola,
David Bowie,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
The Blues Magoos,
Los Fastidios,
Echospace,
The Smiths,
Altered Images,
Rekid,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Derrick Morgan,
the Soft Cell,
The Music Machine,
Main Source,
Skarface,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stereo Dub,
Goldenarms,
Junior Murvin,
Barrington Levy,
Bobby Sherman,
R.M.O.,
Rufus Thomas,
Massinfluence,
Peter and Kerry,
Hashim,
Pylon,
Nation of Ulysses,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Barracudas,
Lungfish,
Bob Dylan,
Boredoms,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
The J.B.'s,
The Martian,
The Golliwogs,
Youth Brigade,
The Fall,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Neon Judgement,
Gang Green,
Avey Tare,
Jerry's Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crime,
Bang On A Can,
Wally Richardson,
The Gories,
The Skatalites,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Minor Threat,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deadbeat,
T.S.O.L.,
Joensuu 1685,
Joy Division,
Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras, Bush Tetras.
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.