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 Saudi Arabia and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 synthesizer 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Soul II Soul tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aswad,
Malaria!,
The United States of America,
Siglo XX,
Black Flag,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Leaves,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eve St. Jones,
Deakin,
Junior Murvin,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sound Behaviour,
Animal Collective,
Television Personalities,
Aaron Thompson,
Quando Quango,
Dark Day,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soul II Soul,
Rod Modell,
Mission of Burma,
Subhumans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Shoche,
Barbara Tucker,
Deadbeat,
the Human League,
Zapp,
the Swans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Fluxion,
Faust,
Vainqueur,
Porter Ricks,
Rufus Thomas,
Henry Cow,
Ronan,
U.S. Maple,
Pagans,
Rapeman,
The Raincoats,
Thompson Twins,
Wire,
Yusef Lateef,
Byron Stingily,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Stooges,
Make Up,
Be Bop Deluxe,
FM Einheit,
Thee Headcoats,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Cure,
Drexciya,
Nirvana,
Skarface,
Marvin Gaye,
The Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.