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 Bolivia and from Manila.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Gladiators to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sandy B record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
The Vogues,
Sonic Youth,
Lou Christie,
The Blues Magoos,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Archie Shepp,
The Martian,
Essential Logic,
ABC,
Blossom Toes,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Quantec,
Bill Near,
Rhythm & Sound,
Con Funk Shun,
48th St. Collective,
Isaac Hayes,
Negative Approach,
Cecil Taylor,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rakim,
The Skatalites,
The Fugs,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mr. Review,
Lightning Bolt,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Stooges,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Make Up,
the Bar-Kays,
Mission of Burma,
Slave,
Crooked Eye,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott Heron,
Marvin Gaye,
Eric B and Rakim,
Crash Course in Science,
Arab on Radar,
Visage,
Jeru the Damaja,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joyce Sims,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ice-T,
Mantronix,
The Residents,
MDC,
a-ha,
Saccharine Trust,
Hot Snakes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Wire,
Dark Day,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Connie Case,
Brothers Johnson,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.