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 Brunei and from Cairo.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer 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 Rites of Spring to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Public Image Ltd.. All the underground hits.
All Unrelated Segments tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Lalann,
June Days,
Big Daddy Kane,
Minutemen,
Absolute Body Control,
Davy DMX,
AZ,
Lightning Bolt,
Talk Talk,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Blake Baxter,
Bang On A Can,
Deakin,
Marine Girls,
The Durutti Column,
T. Rex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Zapp,
The Golliwogs,
Masters at Work,
John Holt,
The Monks,
Leonard Cohen,
Vainqueur,
The Saints,
ABBA,
Yaz,
Terry Callier,
Wings,
Pussy Galore,
Dark Day,
Camberwell Now,
Scrapy,
The Martian,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Bar-Kays,
Amazonics,
The Cramps,
Drexciya,
Black Sheep,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
This Heat,
Graham Central Station,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Raincoats,
Mission of Burma,
Procol Harum,
Joe Finger,
ABC,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Cowsills,
Sam Rivers,
Spoonie Gee,
Ituana,
London Community Gospel Choir,
DJ Sneak,
Icehouse,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Trojans,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.