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 Colombia and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the electroclash 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
The Monks,
Danielle Patucci,
The Birthday Party,
D'Angelo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blake Baxter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pole,
Joy Division,
Amon Düül II,
Qualms,
Sixth Finger,
Glenn Branca,
Pantytec,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sonics,
Flipper,
New York Dolls,
Organ,
Roger Hodgson,
Country Teasers,
Pulsallama,
Terry Callier,
Bizarre Inc.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Arthur Verocai,
Delon & Dalcan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Barrington Levy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Shuggie Otis,
Sugar Minott,
Kaleidoscope,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Crooked Eye,
Althea and Donna,
Jeff Lynne,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ponytail,
Skriet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Hasil Adkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dawn Penn,
Funkadelic,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Sonics,
Pylon,
Circle Jerks,
the Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
The Gap Band,
Sarah Menescal,
John Holt,
Ken Boothe,
Eden Ahbez,
The Pretty Things,
Amazonics,
Marmalade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.