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 Chad and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Modern Lovers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 techno 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
The Five Americans,
The Divine Comedy,
Q65,
Rakim,
Joyce Sims,
The Vogues,
Glenn Branca,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Nation of Ulysses,
Vladislav Delay,
K-Klass,
R.M.O.,
Livin' Joy,
Stiv Bators,
The Cowsills,
The Real Kids,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alice Coltrane,
Rod Modell,
Ice-T,
Robert Görl,
Sam Rivers,
Parry Music,
Blancmange,
ABC,
Ludus,
E-Dancer,
The New Christs,
Sister Nancy,
Colin Newman,
Soft Cell,
Popol Vuh,
Drexciya,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Gladiators,
Tomorrow,
The Slits,
Zero Boys,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Gories,
F. McDonald,
Aloha Tigers,
the Association,
DJ Sneak,
The Litter,
Susan Cadogan,
The Birthday Party,
Ituana,
In Retrospect,
Donny Hathaway,
Henry Cow,
Basic Channel,
One Last Wish,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jacques Brel,
The Standells,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.