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 Senegal and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Heavy D & The Boyz to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Grass Roots,
The Durutti Column,
Lou Reed,
Yaz,
Roxette,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fortunes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
the Germs,
Ralphi Rosario,
Spandau Ballet,
Leonard Cohen,
Blake Baxter,
The New Christs,
Panda Bear,
Goldenarms,
Dead Boys,
Patti Smith,
This Heat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Essential Logic,
Radio Birdman,
Crooked Eye,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Saccharine Trust,
Mars,
Josef K,
Lyres,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Techniques,
Lakeside,
Brass Construction,
Depeche Mode,
Toni Rubio,
Tres Demented,
The Saints,
The Martian,
Warsaw,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Altered Images,
Max Romeo,
Joey Negro,
Crispy Ambulance,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Half Japanese,
The Beau Brummels,
Liliput,
Pantytec,
New Age Steppers,
Simply Red,
CMW,
Minutemen,
Jerry's Kids,
Smog,
Procol Harum,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
D'Angelo,
Anakelly,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.