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 Macedonia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Wally Richardson to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Average White Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dirtbombs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kevin Saunderson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tom Boy,
David McCallum,
Skarface,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rosa Yemen,
Rapeman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Hot Snakes,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
D'Angelo,
the Bar-Kays,
Kevin Saunderson,
John Foxx,
Camberwell Now,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Reagan Youth,
The Dave Clark Five,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Wolf Eyes,
The Wake,
The Smoke,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Saccharine Trust,
Bob Dylan,
The Tremeloes,
Junior Murvin,
The Cowsills,
Mark Hollis,
The Last Poets,
Juan Atkins,
The Cure,
Siglo XX,
Ornette Coleman,
Reuben Wilson,
Zero Boys,
Make Up,
Lindisfarne,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Buckinghams,
Radio Birdman,
The Index,
Subhumans,
Throbbing Gristle,
Soulsonic Force,
Ponytail,
The Standells,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Brothers Johnson,
The Grass Roots,
Fugazi,
Soul II Soul,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultimate Spinach,
ABC,
World's Most,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.