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 St Lucia and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Hoover to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Derrick Morgan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Quadrant,
Sun City Girls,
Maleditus Sound,
JFA,
Slick Rick,
Bill Wells,
Boogie Down Productions,
Adolescents,
Connie Case,
Cybotron,
D'Angelo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Maurizio,
Joyce Sims,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cymande,
The Martian,
Gastr Del Sol,
Eddi Front,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Slits,
Kas Product,
Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rites of Spring,
Warren Ellis,
Amazonics,
Circle Jerks,
Warsaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Oblivians,
The Buckinghams,
Harpers Bizarre,
Qualms,
Banda Bassotti,
Das Ding,
Gichy Dan,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Fraelich,
The Beau Brummels,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Ludus,
Boredoms,
Johnny Clarke,
Mantronix,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Velvet Underground,
Gang Starr,
Robert Hood,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Alphaville,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Robert Wyatt,
Half Japanese,
Alison Limerick,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Infiniti,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.