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 Botswana and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Ohio Players to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Black Dice,
Warsaw,
The Doors,
Faust,
X-Ray Spex,
Lower 48,
H. Thieme,
The Monks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Spoonie Gee,
Bobby Byrd,
Cluster,
Arcadia,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Matthew Bourne,
Suicide,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
Camberwell Now,
Todd Terry,
Barclay James Harvest,
ABBA,
The Skatalites,
Yellowson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Audionom,
T. Rex,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Terry Callier,
Todd Rundgren,
Sister Nancy,
The Cure,
Arthur Verocai,
Blossom Toes,
Kas Product,
Ultravox,
Man Parrish,
Amon Düül II,
Funkadelic,
Stiv Bators,
JFA,
Sixth Finger,
John Foxx,
Laurel Aitken,
The Alarm Clocks,
Easy Going,
Isaac Hayes,
June Days,
Brick,
Shoche,
Kenny Larkin,
Harry Pussy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.