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 Belize and from Stockholm.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 oboe 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines 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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants 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?
Pole,
Kerrie Biddell,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Guru Guru,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
June Days,
F. McDonald,
Quantec,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
Warren Ellis,
the Slits,
Cheater Slicks,
Suburban Knight,
Stetsasonic,
Make Up,
Accadde A,
The Moody Blues,
Hashim,
Panda Bear,
Zapp,
The Index,
K-Klass,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fugazi,
Sugar Minott,
Barry Ungar,
Von Mondo,
Brass Construction,
Soft Cell,
X-102,
Marine Girls,
Danielle Patucci,
Bauhaus,
Reagan Youth,
Second Layer,
the Germs,
Dennis Brown,
Slave,
Black Moon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harry Pussy,
Dark Day,
Terry Callier,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Excepter,
Average White Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Parry Music,
U.S. Maple,
Adolescents,
The Beau Brummels,
H. Thieme,
Mo-Dettes,
Crash Course in Science,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Wings,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.