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 Montenegro and from Tokyo.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Crispy Ambulance to the rap 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All Goldenarms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Das Ding,
Brass Construction,
Fluxion,
Jesper Dahlback,
Dead Boys,
The Electric Prunes,
KRS-One,
Duran Duran,
Wasted Youth,
Donald Byrd,
Thee Headcoats,
Fatback Band,
Funky Four + One,
Minnie Riperton,
Deepchord,
Kenny Larkin,
Moebius,
The Victims,
The Motions,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sandy B,
Minor Threat,
The J.B.'s,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Monks,
Spoonie Gee,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rotary Connection,
Derrick May,
Mr. Review,
Gabor Szabo,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Jimmy McGriff,
This Heat,
The American Breed,
The Modern Lovers,
Mars,
Cecil Taylor,
Harmonia,
Average White Band,
The Smoke,
F. McDonald,
Wings,
Roy Ayers,
Godley & Creme,
Pussy Galore,
The Fugs,
The Litter,
James White and The Blacks,
Zapp,
The Residents,
Lower 48,
Bronski Beat,
Sällskapet,
Faust,
B.T. Express,
the Normal,
Bob Dylan,
The Wake,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.