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 India and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Juan Atkins to the crunk 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Sun Ra,
Nico,
Junior Murvin,
Monks,
Man Parrish,
Cluster,
Von Mondo,
Robert Görl,
Royal Trux,
Hoover,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Silicon Teens,
Fear,
June of 44,
Cybotron,
Grandmaster Flash,
Archie Shepp,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Delon & Dalcan,
Q65,
The Toasters,
The Leaves,
Lightning Bolt,
the Bar-Kays,
The Grass Roots,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Sherman,
The Fugs,
The Zeros,
Electric Prunes,
the Normal,
Rotary Connection,
Tres Demented,
Ultravox,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ten City,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Skatalites,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Au Pairs,
Buzzcocks,
Faust,
The Beau Brummels,
Nik Kershaw,
Slick Rick,
Trumans Water,
Arab on Radar,
The Blackbyrds,
Hot Snakes,
The Doors,
Sparks,
Pierre Henry,
The Fuzztones,
Technova,
Lungfish,
Gil Scott Heron,
Oblivians,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.