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 Benin and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 48th St. Collective to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Unwound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MC5,
Nirvana,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
PIL,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mission of Burma,
Rhythm & Sound,
Funkadelic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rosa Yemen,
The Remains,
Shuggie Otis,
Icehouse,
Vladislav Delay,
Jacques Brel,
The Victims,
LL Cool J,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
Fatback Band,
Metal Thangz,
The Blackbyrds,
Young Marble Giants,
The Seeds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soulsonic Force,
Babytalk,
Ornette Coleman,
Zero Boys,
Ossler,
Swans,
Circle Jerks,
The Grass Roots,
Ultimate Spinach,
Maurizio,
JFA,
The Dead C,
Main Source,
The Mighty Diamonds,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yazoo,
Reuben Wilson,
Cluster,
Country Teasers,
T. Rex,
Joy Division,
Lalann,
Intrusion,
Fad Gadget,
The Five Americans,
Ronnie Foster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Schoolly D,
the Bar-Kays,
Visage,
Jeff Lynne,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.