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 Barbados and from Milan.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fugazi to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
The Young Rascals,
Idris Muhammad,
Jacob Miller,
Derrick May,
Mars,
One Last Wish,
Josef K,
ABC,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Misunderstood,
Audionom,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Last Poets,
Barclay James Harvest,
Brothers Johnson,
Heaven 17,
Hasil Adkins,
Lindisfarne,
The Cure,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Harpers Bizarre,
U.S. Maple,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television,
Cecil Taylor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Magazine,
Aaron Thompson,
Maurizio,
Aloha Tigers,
DJ Sneak,
Rhythm & Sound,
Godley & Creme,
The Monochrome Set,
The Victims,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Saccharine Trust,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool Moe Dee,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Christie,
The Gladiators,
Archie Shepp,
Bauhaus,
The Pop Group,
The Star Department,
H. Thieme,
Pole,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Cowsills,
Sex Pistols,
The Real Kids,
David McCallum,
Nirvana,
Quantec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Steve Hackett,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth, Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth.
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.