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 Congo and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 sitar 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 Glambeats Corp. to the techno 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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Spoonie Gee,
Byron Stingily,
UT,
The Real Kids,
Joey Negro,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Index,
Accadde A,
Todd Rundgren,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sällskapet,
Soulsonic Force,
The Motions,
Idris Muhammad,
Audionom,
Basic Channel,
Piero Umiliani,
Marvin Gaye,
Clear Light,
This Heat,
Arab on Radar,
Erasure,
Brick,
Oneida,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cecil Taylor,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Victims,
Pere Ubu,
Gang Gang Dance,
Newcleus,
Maleditus Sound,
Hashim,
Sam Rivers,
Siglo XX,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Last Poets,
Black Sheep,
Lungfish,
Pussy Galore,
Mad Mike,
The Fire Engines,
Eve St. Jones,
MDC,
Charles Mingus,
Glenn Branca,
T.S.O.L.,
The Slits,
Absolute Body Control,
Brand Nubian,
In Retrospect,
Slick Rick,
Wings,
Qualms,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ken Boothe,
Tropical Tobacco,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Human League,
Adolescents,
The Cure,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.