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 Mali and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Jawbox to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lee Hazlewood,
New Age Steppers,
Roxette,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bill Near,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arcadia,
Minnie Riperton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Angels of Light,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Babytalk,
Depeche Mode,
The Blues Magoos,
Duran Duran,
Rotary Connection,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marvin Gaye,
Mandrill,
Kurtis Blow,
The American Breed,
Can,
David Bowie,
Television Personalities,
The Misunderstood,
Organ,
Al Stewart,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Sonics,
Slick Rick,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
La Düsseldorf,
Soulsonic Force,
The Shadows of Knight,
Model 500,
The Smiths,
James White and The Blacks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Amon Düül II,
Scrapy,
Bobby Byrd,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
10cc,
Icehouse,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Man Parrish,
John Holt,
Qualms,
ABBA,
Pagans,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
These Immortal Souls,
Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck, Jesper Dahlbäck.
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.