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 Solomon Islands and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 marimba 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 Sonics to the grunge 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Lonnie Liston Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Last Poets,
Porter Ricks,
Amazonics,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barbara Tucker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Gun Club,
The Fortunes,
Minor Threat,
Con Funk Shun,
K-Klass,
Sun Ra,
Kaleidoscope,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Neon Judgement,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yazoo,
Marc Almond,
Swell Maps,
Vainqueur,
The Dirtbombs,
a-ha,
Roger Hodgson,
Graham Central Station,
Dead Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Laurel Aitken,
Television Personalities,
Mandrill,
The Divine Comedy,
Yusef Lateef,
F. McDonald,
Gichy Dan,
Marmalade,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fugs,
Ultravox,
Dave Gahan,
Yaz,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Monolake,
Section 25,
Brick,
Fluxion,
Guru Guru,
Neil Young,
The Slackers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
AZ,
Erykah Badu,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Happenings,
Bush Tetras,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne, Jeff Lynne.
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.