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 Peru and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Scientists to the disco 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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rakim,
The Selecter,
The Busters,
Black Pus,
Wire,
Slick Rick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marshall Jefferson,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Quando Quango,
Judy Mowatt,
Shuggie Otis,
Sam Rivers,
the Slits,
Electric Prunes,
Absolute Body Control,
Minny Pops,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rekid,
Donald Byrd,
Model 500,
The Zeros,
Tim Buckley,
Grauzone,
The Real Kids,
Mark Hollis,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
Barrington Levy,
Dawn Penn,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scott Walker,
The Kinks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Television,
Motorama,
Neil Young,
Peter & Gordon,
Von Mondo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Altered Images,
Boredoms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Khruangbin,
Crash Course in Science,
Nation of Ulysses,
Janne Schatter,
Lalann,
Subhumans,
Lou Christie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang of Four,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Move,
Sight & Sound,
Heaven 17,
Alton Ellis,
Pantaleimon,
Morten Harket,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.