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 Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Ralphi Rosario to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joyce Sims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Anthony Braxton,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
the Fania All-Stars,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Monochrome Set,
Lyres,
Deadbeat,
Mr. Review,
Slick Rick,
FM Einheit,
Altered Images,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Make Up,
Cal Tjader,
Cameo,
Rapeman,
Aural Exciters,
Wolf Eyes,
Icehouse,
The Beau Brummels,
AZ,
the Swans,
The Busters,
Rosa Yemen,
Blossom Toes,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Five Americans,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantytec,
Minor Threat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Panda Bear,
Warsaw,
Eric Dolphy,
Wire,
Masters at Work,
Black Flag,
Das Ding,
Scan 7,
Fat Boys,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Faust,
Banda Bassotti,
cv313,
Alison Limerick,
Japan,
The Monks,
Derrick Morgan,
Harry Pussy,
Boogie Down Productions,
New Age Steppers,
Todd Terry,
The Motions,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mars,
Shoche,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lindisfarne,
Eric Copeland,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.