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 Cyprus and from Woodstock.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro 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 Marc Almond to the jazz 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre 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?
Joey Negro,
Porter Ricks,
Skriet,
Liliput,
Bobby Womack,
Talk Talk,
Visage,
Flamin' Groovies,
Minny Pops,
The Dirtbombs,
Dark Day,
The Walker Brothers,
The Doors,
Junior Murvin,
Anthony Braxton,
Moby Grape,
Gang Starr,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gong,
The Zeros,
The Dave Clark Five,
Ken Boothe,
Accadde A,
Pantytec,
Sandy B,
The Beau Brummels,
T.S.O.L.,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Barracudas,
Absolute Body Control,
Unrelated Segments,
AZ,
Slave,
Gabor Szabo,
Hoover,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Offenders,
Babytalk,
Masters at Work,
Wally Richardson,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Quantec,
Moebius,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Surgeon,
Max Romeo,
Bootsy Collins,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Con Funk Shun,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Pretty Things,
The Litter,
The Remains,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erasure,
The Martian,
The Move,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sun Ra,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.