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 Marshall Islands and from Bremen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the grime 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Alison Limerick,
The Golliwogs,
Joy Division,
Brand Nubian,
Piero Umiliani,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Electric Prunes,
John Lydon,
The Move,
Clear Light,
a-ha,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Coltrane,
Lightning Bolt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pole,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mark Hollis,
Banda Bassotti,
Barbara Tucker,
Youth Brigade,
L. Decosne,
Black Flag,
Robert Hood,
K-Klass,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Searchers,
The Music Machine,
Swell Maps,
Pussy Galore,
Underground Resistance,
The Index,
Dave Gahan,
Zapp,
Interpol,
Erasure,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Sound,
Scion,
Roy Ayers,
Deakin,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joe Finger,
June Days,
Essential Logic,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
June of 44,
Marmalade,
Leonard Cohen,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Litter,
Organ,
Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Swans,
Lyres,
Sam Rivers,
Bill Near,
Soft Machine,
The Sonics,
Sight & Sound,
Dual Sessions,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.