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 Guinea-Bissau and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Wings to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
Agent Orange,
Brothers Johnson,
Judy Mowatt,
Bobby Womack,
Sarah Menescal,
Morten Harket,
Chrome,
The Leaves,
Grauzone,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The J.B.'s,
The Fugs,
F. McDonald,
Babytalk,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Human League,
DNA,
The Shadows of Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Reuben Wilson,
Pantytec,
Crash Course in Science,
Scratch Acid,
Pagans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cheater Slicks,
Ten City,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Drive Like Jehu,
Qualms,
Kerri Chandler,
Sam Rivers,
the Normal,
Mandrill,
Skriet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Michelle Simonal,
June of 44,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Enemy,
Hoover,
Al Stewart,
Audionom,
Josef K,
Drexciya,
Sound Behaviour,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Talk Talk,
Rod Modell,
Ossler,
Vladislav Delay,
Franke,
Icehouse,
Ultimate Spinach,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gun Club,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.