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 Eritrea and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 Rapeman to the crunk 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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Scrapy,
The Gladiators,
The Move,
Interpol,
June Days,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cowsills,
Jacob Miller,
John Cale,
Donald Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Rhythm & Sound,
F. McDonald,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Hoover,
Big Daddy Kane,
Oneida,
Ponytail,
Graham Central Station,
Parry Music,
Soft Cell,
Susan Cadogan,
Loose Ends,
Agitation Free,
Fugazi,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
a-ha,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Icehouse,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lalann,
Public Enemy,
Colin Newman,
Harry Pussy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tears for Fears,
Sixth Finger,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Mars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Robert Wyatt,
Joe Smooth,
Eden Ahbez,
Circle Jerks,
Schoolly D,
Moby Grape,
Smog,
Davy DMX,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Heaven 17,
Little Man,
The Slackers,
Boz Scaggs,
Underground Resistance,
Skarface,
Black Pus,
Amon Düül II,
Negative Approach,
Public Image Ltd.,
Peter & Gordon,
Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub, Stereo Dub.
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.