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 Burkina and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 Cairo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 güiro 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 Eve St. Jones to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Panda Bear 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Rotary Connection,
Terrestrial Tones,
Rakim,
Yaz,
Pharoah Sanders,
Toni Rubio,
Nils Olav,
Boz Scaggs,
The Saints,
Surgeon,
The Last Poets,
Gang Gang Dance,
Guru Guru,
H. Thieme,
Ossler,
U.S. Maple,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Soft Cell,
The Fuzztones,
Howard Jones,
Simply Red,
The Electric Prunes,
Sparks,
Tommy Roe,
Chris Corsano,
The Martian,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Joe Smooth,
The Associates,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Residents,
Goldenarms,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultra Naté,
The Sound,
Bill Near,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Swans,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
Procol Harum,
These Immortal Souls,
Dead Boys,
David McCallum,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Circle Jerks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Leonard Cohen,
Dorothy Ashby,
Public Enemy,
Jeff Lynne,
The Standells,
Quantec,
Eric Dolphy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Q and Not U,
James White and The Blacks,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.