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 Maldives and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Tom Boy to the techno 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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mad Mike,
Lalann,
Skarface,
The Black Dice,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Silicon Teens,
Moebius,
Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
The Real Kids,
Graham Central Station,
The Knickerbockers,
Gang of Four,
Hardrive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Khruangbin,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
One Last Wish,
Soft Machine,
Tears for Fears,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Pharoah Sanders,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Connie Case,
Skaos,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eli Mardock,
The Slits,
John Lydon,
Peter & Gordon,
Jacques Brel,
Sparks,
Buzzcocks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Invisible,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Dual Sessions,
Inner City,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Hill,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Vogues,
Reagan Youth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Anthony Braxton,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brick,
Ossler,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.