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 Marshall Islands and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Toronto.
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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
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 Severed Heads to the disco 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Glenn Branca,
Wally Richardson,
Erykah Badu,
Faust,
The Slackers,
DJ Style,
Simply Red,
Lower 48,
Massinfluence,
Pagans,
Goldenarms,
Zero Boys,
Minny Pops,
D'Angelo,
The Standells,
John Lydon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Stetsasonic,
Kaleidoscope,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Funky Four + One,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Section 25,
Echospace,
Funkadelic,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Doobie Brothers,
Black Bananas,
The Index,
The Last Poets,
Guru Guru,
Severed Heads,
Terry Callier,
Hardrive,
Liliput,
ABC,
Saccharine Trust,
The Electric Prunes,
Wings,
Mark Hollis,
The Golliwogs,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Harry Pussy,
One Last Wish,
Kerri Chandler,
China Crisis,
Siglo XX,
Ituana,
Gang Green,
Bauhaus,
Jeff Lynne,
Pharoah Sanders,
a-ha,
Jandek,
Ralphi Rosario,
Soft Cell,
Shoche,
Scratch Acid,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.