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 Nepal and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Mark Hollis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Selecter,
Fear,
Boogie Down Productions,
John Holt,
Rhythm & Sound,
Groovy Waters,
Sam Rivers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Urselle,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Vogues,
The Fugs,
the Normal,
Roger Hodgson,
Lungfish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Saints,
Talk Talk,
These Immortal Souls,
Jimmy McGriff,
Skarface,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Cale,
Janne Schatter,
Lyres,
Mo-Dettes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Misunderstood,
E-Dancer,
Ralphi Rosario,
Chris & Cosey,
B.T. Express,
Maleditus Sound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
This Heat,
Stiv Bators,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ohio Players,
Mr. Review,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Malaria!,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bill Near,
Lou Christie,
Ronnie Foster,
The Skatalites,
Peter and Kerry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
the Bar-Kays,
The Beau Brummels,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maurizio,
Faraquet,
The Dirtbombs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Davy DMX,
The Golliwogs,
Pylon,
Loose Ends,
The Busters,
Index, Index, Index, Index.
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.