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 Montenegro and from Calgary.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rotary Connection to the funk 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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 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 Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Danielle Patucci,
Alice Coltrane,
Marcia Griffiths,
This Heat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Avey Tare,
Porter Ricks,
Jeff Mills,
Pantytec,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Aaron Thompson,
Josef K,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Residents,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brass Construction,
The Five Americans,
Das Ding,
Dawn Penn,
Piero Umiliani,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Graham Central Station,
The Mojo Men,
Angry Samoans,
Robert Hood,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Radiopuhelimet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mandrill,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Darondo,
Neu!,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gichy Dan,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Dolphy,
The Skatalites,
Soft Cell,
Sixth Finger,
New Age Steppers,
Banda Bassotti,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Leaves,
Jawbox,
Scrapy,
The Moleskins,
Saccharine Trust,
Lucky Dragons,
Byron Stingily,
Television,
Marc Almond,
Tubeway Army,
The Angels of Light,
One Last Wish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.