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 Tonga and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Barracudas to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All X-102 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Subhumans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Henry Cow,
the Bar-Kays,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Fat Boys,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mummies,
Bootsy Collins,
The Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
Erykah Badu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Michelle Simonal,
The Walker Brothers,
Public Enemy,
Ornette Coleman,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mad Mike,
Moebius,
Blancmange,
Stereo Dub,
Young Marble Giants,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Remains,
Sound Behaviour,
Pantaleimon,
Saccharine Trust,
Sam Rivers,
Loose Ends,
Trumans Water,
Glambeats Corp.,
Soulsonic Force,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kurtis Blow,
Davy DMX,
Iggy Pop,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Human League,
The Fire Engines,
Lightning Bolt,
Television Personalities,
Sugar Minott,
Arthur Verocai,
Von Mondo,
Byron Stingily,
Massinfluence,
Oneida,
Fluxion,
Wire,
Fugazi,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Young Rascals,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Sonics,
Rosa Yemen,
Rites of Spring,
Cal Tjader,
H. Thieme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barry Ungar,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.