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 Bahamas and from Manila.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 The Human League to the grime 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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Simply Red,
Mary Jane Girls,
Monks,
Masters at Work,
the Normal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry's Kids,
Accadde A,
Stetsasonic,
Pulsallama,
Agent Orange,
Brass Construction,
Morten Harket,
Sly & The Family Stone,
F. McDonald,
Radio Birdman,
Smog,
The American Breed,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Velvet Underground,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Groovy Waters,
The Dead C,
Siglo XX,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Animal Collective,
Sugar Minott,
Alton Ellis,
Zapp,
Jacob Miller,
Pussy Galore,
Fugazi,
Jacques Brel,
Talk Talk,
The Last Poets,
Ice-T,
The Flesh Eaters,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Fat Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deakin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pet Shop Boys,
David McCallum,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Brothers Johnson,
Tubeway Army,
Rapeman,
Fear,
The Stooges,
Absolute Body Control,
Depeche Mode,
Skriet,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.