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 Morocco and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Whodini to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Procol Harum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Angry Samoans,
Section 25,
Intrusion,
Throbbing Gristle,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
China Crisis,
Eric Dolphy,
Altered Images,
Duran Duran,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eli Mardock,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ice-T,
Albert Ayler,
Eddi Front,
David Axelrod,
Maurizio,
Andrew Hill,
Grauzone,
Derrick May,
Eric B and Rakim,
Public Image Ltd.,
R.M.O.,
The Neon Judgement,
Q65,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marine Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Smog,
Barry Ungar,
Scrapy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sun Ra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blossom Toes,
Sex Pistols,
Vainqueur,
Qualms,
The Stooges,
Black Pus,
Soulsonic Force,
AZ,
Niagra,
The Walker Brothers,
The United States of America,
Cheater Slicks,
Ken Boothe,
The Star Department,
Tubeway Army,
the Soft Cell,
Tomorrow,
Oblivians,
Derrick Morgan,
Agent Orange,
DNA,
Iggy Pop,
Zero Boys,
Japan,
the Slits,
Juan Atkins,
Funkadelic,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.