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 France and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar 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 Music Machine to the jazz 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 linndrum and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glambeats Corp. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Monolake,
Pylon,
Von Mondo,
Minor Threat,
Tim Buckley,
The Grass Roots,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New York Dolls,
Susan Cadogan,
Robert Wyatt,
Erykah Badu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Godley & Creme,
Gerry Rafferty,
Can,
Idris Muhammad,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moby Grape,
ABBA,
Urselle,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Connie Case,
MDC,
the Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Aural Exciters,
Crime,
Barclay James Harvest,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scan 7,
Minutemen,
D'Angelo,
In Retrospect,
Roy Ayers,
Monks,
Faust,
Fad Gadget,
Soft Machine,
Main Source,
Fat Boys,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Big Daddy Kane,
Warsaw,
This Heat,
The Beau Brummels,
Ten City,
LL Cool J,
Reagan Youth,
Mad Mike,
Girls At Our Best!,
Yellowson,
DJ Style,
Black Moon,
Terry Callier,
Sex Pistols,
Tomorrow,
Pantytec,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gong,
Todd Terry,
Tommy Roe,
Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers, Aloha Tigers.
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.