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 Panama and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 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 Zapp to the grunge 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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mars,
Dawn Penn,
the Sonics,
Silicon Teens,
Zero Boys,
The Raincoats,
The Residents,
Arcadia,
DNA,
Cheater Slicks,
Can,
Mad Mike,
The Monks,
Au Pairs,
Los Fastidios,
Nils Olav,
Brass Construction,
Connie Case,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fugs,
Derrick Morgan,
Public Enemy,
Icehouse,
Procol Harum,
Inner City,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Prince Buster,
The Angels of Light,
Crooked Eye,
Newcleus,
The Gladiators,
Soft Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Tres Demented,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fire Engines,
The Invisible,
Gang Starr,
Joey Negro,
Minnie Riperton,
Grauzone,
Black Flag,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Neil Young,
John Cale,
Kerrie Biddell,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Normal,
Frankie Knuckles,
The United States of America,
The Doors,
Flipper,
Schoolly D,
Make Up,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Sneak,
The Move,
John Foxx,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.