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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Faraquet to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fugazi,
Cecil Taylor,
Vainqueur,
Lucky Dragons,
Thompson Twins,
Donald Byrd,
DNA,
Scrapy,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Skatalites,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Görl,
Lyres,
The Gladiators,
Eli Mardock,
The Leaves,
The Seeds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
Prince Buster,
The New Christs,
Blake Baxter,
Isaac Hayes,
Crash Course in Science,
The Music Machine,
Sandy B,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Angels of Light,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Skaos,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Scratch Acid,
Hardrive,
Zapp,
Avey Tare,
Scion,
Blancmange,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxette,
Pierre Henry,
Tomorrow,
The Vogues,
Jerry's Kids,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Slits,
Black Sheep,
Radiopuhelimet,
Althea and Donna,
Nas,
CMW,
Bobby Sherman,
Trumans Water,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Clear Light,
Erasure,
The Pop Group,
The Offenders,
Jawbox,
JFA,
Rakim,
Easy Going,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.