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 China and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Los Fastidios 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Peter and Kerry,
Swell Maps,
Saccharine Trust,
The Zeros,
The Gladiators,
Rosa Yemen,
Slick Rick,
Boz Scaggs,
Sixth Finger,
Pylon,
The Offenders,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABBA,
Toni Rubio,
Pagans,
Circle Jerks,
Lalann,
Kevin Saunderson,
Darondo,
FM Einheit,
Juan Atkins,
Goldenarms,
Connie Case,
Alice Coltrane,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy Collins,
Reagan Youth,
Index,
Laurel Aitken,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
Rakim,
Sandy B,
The Blues Magoos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Kinks,
Thompson Twins,
Avey Tare,
Mad Mike,
Inner City,
Supertramp,
Marc Almond,
Soft Machine,
Soul Sonic Force,
Icehouse,
ABC,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lower 48,
Funkadelic,
Minny Pops,
Absolute Body Control,
The Evens,
Barbara Tucker,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stetsasonic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Invisible,
Joyce Sims,
Tommy Roe,
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.