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 Tuvalu and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 Urselle 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Rekid,
Au Pairs,
Rapeman,
Tommy Roe,
The Misunderstood,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Television Personalities,
Suburban Knight,
Chris Corsano,
Accadde A,
Quadrant,
Spoonie Gee,
Roy Ayers,
Marc Almond,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Hashim,
Q and Not U,
the Normal,
Symarip,
Pet Shop Boys,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Isaac Hayes,
Scion,
John Cale,
The Flesh Eaters,
Wire,
Adolescents,
CMW,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blossom Toes,
Los Fastidios,
Yazoo,
The Names,
Tomorrow,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Delon & Dalcan,
OOIOO,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Golliwogs,
Soft Cell,
Todd Terry,
Sexual Harrassment,
MDC,
Lalann,
10cc,
The Associates,
Animal Collective,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Alison Limerick,
Zero Boys,
Eden Ahbez,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Magma,
Bronski Beat,
Japan,
The Barracudas,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mojo Men,
Fluxion,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.