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 Romania and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 sitar 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 Kurtis Blow to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sun City Girls. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dirtbombs,
The Mojo Men,
E-Dancer,
The Martian,
Ultimate Spinach,
Barry Ungar,
The Litter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang of Four,
Tim Buckley,
Make Up,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerri Chandler,
Quadrant,
Mr. Review,
Howard Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Scrapy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Animal Collective,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scott Walker,
Jandek,
10cc,
Harmonia,
Brass Construction,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dead Boys,
Scion,
Tomorrow,
Icehouse,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mars,
Neil Young,
Eden Ahbez,
Guru Guru,
Black Moon,
Juan Atkins,
Archie Shepp,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Thompson Twins,
The Names,
The Gun Club,
Don Cherry,
Groovy Waters,
Maurizio,
Skriet,
Black Pus,
the Germs,
Bad Manners,
Arcadia,
F. McDonald,
The Searchers,
Thee Headcoats,
Brand Nubian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Stooges,
This Heat,
Marmalade,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eddi Front,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft, Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft.
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.