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 Poland and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bologna.
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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Animal Collective to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All The Moody Blues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
Radio Birdman,
Nico,
The Fuzztones,
Television,
The Modern Lovers,
The Toasters,
X-Ray Spex,
The Durutti Column,
Shuggie Otis,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
DJ Sneak,
The Velvet Underground,
Crispy Ambulance,
Drexciya,
Lou Reed,
Jeff Mills,
Scratch Acid,
Letta Mbulu,
Mary Jane Girls,
Panda Bear,
Wally Richardson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Andrew Hill,
T.S.O.L.,
Supertramp,
Tears for Fears,
Patti Smith,
Prince Buster,
Robert Wyatt,
Lyres,
Bauhaus,
Magazine,
Tubeway Army,
The Pretty Things,
Howard Jones,
Isaac Hayes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gladiators,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Intrusion,
Soft Cell,
Deepchord,
Barry Ungar,
Pussy Galore,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Monolake,
Eli Mardock,
Dark Day,
Oblivians,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cal Tjader,
Ronnie Foster,
Ultra Naté,
The J.B.'s,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
Amon Düül II,
Deakin,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.