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 Burkina and from London.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 808 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fuzztones,
Junior Murvin,
Harmonia,
Nico,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pantytec,
The Wake,
Lower 48,
Rakim,
Ponytail,
Mo-Dettes,
Skaos,
Shuggie Otis,
Pylon,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
kango's stein massive,
cv313,
Black Bananas,
Prince Buster,
James White and The Blacks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Litter,
Pet Shop Boys,
Angry Samoans,
the Soft Cell,
Eric Dolphy,
Lakeside,
Japan,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vainqueur,
Eli Mardock,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nas,
Marmalade,
The Leaves,
The Stooges,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Nick Fraelich,
Roger Hodgson,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Joe Finger,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boredoms,
Pole,
DJ Style,
Brothers Johnson,
The Zeros,
The Real Kids,
Lyres,
The Dirtbombs,
B.T. Express,
Grey Daturas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
R.M.O.,
Franke,
Urselle, Urselle, Urselle, Urselle.
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.