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 Vietnam and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe 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 The Smoke to the dance 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Donny Hathaway,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Khruangbin,
Motorama,
Black Pus,
Black Sheep,
Grandmaster Flash,
Jeff Lynne,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Hood,
Deepchord,
Suburban Knight,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Fad Gadget,
Oneida,
Tres Demented,
Jerry's Kids,
Nirvana,
Rufus Thomas,
cv313,
Davy DMX,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Slick Rick,
Shuggie Otis,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Knickerbockers,
Barbara Tucker,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Average White Band,
Audionom,
Y Pants,
World's Most,
Sun Ra,
Thee Headcoats,
48th St. Collective,
China Crisis,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
Harmonia,
Lyres,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Hill,
Babytalk,
The Five Americans,
Bauhaus,
Eden Ahbez,
Alison Limerick,
The Tremeloes,
DNA,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Electric Prunes,
Joey Negro,
Public Enemy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Bootsy Collins,
Inner City,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Electric Prunes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.