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 Burkina and from London.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Camouflage to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gang Green,
Man Eating Sloth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pussy Galore,
Dual Sessions,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick May,
Eric B and Rakim,
Surgeon,
Darondo,
Young Marble Giants,
Infiniti,
Funkadelic,
Motorama,
Johnny Clarke,
Glenn Branca,
Prince Buster,
Kerri Chandler,
Suburban Knight,
Schoolly D,
The Electric Prunes,
Smog,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Human League,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jacques Brel,
The Happenings,
Quadrant,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eric Dolphy,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
H. Thieme,
The Cramps,
Ultravox,
Boz Scaggs,
Ken Boothe,
Monolake,
The Young Rascals,
Cluster,
Los Fastidios,
Guru Guru,
F. McDonald,
Cal Tjader,
Lebanon Hanover,
Organ,
Bill Wells,
Pantaleimon,
Brick,
Flamin' Groovies,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wings,
Procol Harum,
Bauhaus,
Severed Heads,
Tommy Roe,
Alton Ellis,
Flash Fearless,
This Heat,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.