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 Serbia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Darondo to the jazz 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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Ken Boothe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Franke,
the Human League,
Nils Olav,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marine Girls,
Severed Heads,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Doors,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mantronix,
Soft Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Busters,
Outsiders,
Derrick May,
Crash Course in Science,
The Wake,
Minny Pops,
The United States of America,
Magma,
Lalann,
Funkadelic,
X-101,
Sun Ra,
Scrapy,
Quantec,
Vladislav Delay,
The Victims,
Arab on Radar,
Neil Young,
Dark Day,
Qualms,
Stetsasonic,
The Slits,
Oblivians,
Electric Prunes,
Au Pairs,
The Martian,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jacob Miller,
Black Pus,
The Barracudas,
The Dead C,
The Fall,
Byron Stingily,
The Monks,
Black Flag,
Cybotron,
The Vogues,
The Cramps,
Trumans Water,
John Coltrane,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.