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 Moldova and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the electroclash 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camouflage,
Darondo,
Jeff Mills,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Mummies,
Clear Light,
The Gories,
The Cramps,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scratch Acid,
Black Moon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
A Certain Ratio,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rakim,
PIL,
The Toasters,
DNA,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Sound,
Jacques Brel,
Sarah Menescal,
Lungfish,
Drexciya,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Christie,
Eric Copeland,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Severed Heads,
Dual Sessions,
the Association,
the Normal,
Sonic Youth,
Bauhaus,
Minny Pops,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cal Tjader,
Hardrive,
Quadrant,
Eddi Front,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Pretty Things,
Toni Rubio,
Malaria!,
These Immortal Souls,
Barbara Tucker,
Desert Stars,
Mantronix,
Terry Callier,
the Fania All-Stars,
Henry Cow,
Robert Görl,
Schoolly D,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Aaron Thompson,
The Tremeloes,
Eric Dolphy,
a-ha,
Janne Schatter,
Nico,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.