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 Korea South and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer 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 Red Krayola to the rap 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 The Cowsills. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Freddie Wadling record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slick Rick,
the Soft Cell,
Slave,
Archie Shepp,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Reed,
The Index,
Peter and Kerry,
Agent Orange,
Desert Stars,
Unrelated Segments,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tommy Roe,
Boz Scaggs,
The American Breed,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lower 48,
Carl Craig,
Metal Thangz,
Shuggie Otis,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Kinks,
Thee Headcoats,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cameo,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cymande,
Steve Hackett,
Skaos,
Severed Heads,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Delta 5,
Warsaw,
Tom Boy,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Bar-Kays,
the Human League,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joe Smooth,
John Holt,
Deakin,
Mars,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Half Japanese,
Dark Day,
The Fuzztones,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Second Layer,
Marine Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Todd Terry,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey, Chris & Cosey.
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.