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 Cuba and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 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 Black Pus to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mantronix. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young & Crazy Horse 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Judy Mowatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Offenders,
Kurtis Blow,
the Sonics,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultravox,
The Count Five,
World's Most,
Sonny Sharrock,
L. Decosne,
Black Bananas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Television,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Al Stewart,
Alton Ellis,
Severed Heads,
Archie Shepp,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Eve St. Jones,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Barracudas,
Stockholm Monsters,
Heaven 17,
The Golliwogs,
Goldenarms,
Crispian St. Peters,
DJ Style,
DNA,
Isaac Hayes,
Chrome,
The Fall,
Sandy B,
Lucky Dragons,
Talk Talk,
Slick Rick,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Invisible,
Little Man,
Depeche Mode,
Blossom Toes,
Stereo Dub,
This Heat,
Quando Quango,
JFA,
the Association,
Brick,
Man Parrish,
Marine Girls,
Johnny Clarke,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
X-Ray Spex,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smiths,
Accadde A,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nik Kershaw,
The New Christs,
Bill Wells,
Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter, Janne Schatter.
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.