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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 F. McDonald to the electroclash 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Ajijia Myrayebe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Oblivians,
CMW,
Theoretical Girls,
The Selecter,
AZ,
Monks,
The American Breed,
Reagan Youth,
Roxy Music,
EPMD,
Grauzone,
Man Eating Sloth,
F. McDonald,
Max Romeo,
Sex Pistols,
Pussy Galore,
U.S. Maple,
Alton Ellis,
Lindisfarne,
Arthur Verocai,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Schoolly D,
Gong,
Mars,
Country Teasers,
PIL,
Lou Reed,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Pylon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Letta Mbulu,
Fluxion,
Pulsallama,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cal Tjader,
Albert Ayler,
The Neon Judgement,
Easy Going,
Circle Jerks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Faust,
ABC,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sam Rivers,
David Axelrod,
Moebius,
Alice Coltrane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Average White Band,
Dennis Brown,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tubeway Army,
James White and The Blacks,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.