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 Estonia and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Johannesburg and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare 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 Black Moon to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Urselle. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Make Up,
Japan,
CMW,
Bobby Sherman,
Severed Heads,
June of 44,
Freddie Wadling,
Leonard Cohen,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alison Limerick,
Flash Fearless,
Roxette,
Johnny Clarke,
The Dead C,
The Trojans,
Sex Pistols,
The Standells,
Eurythmics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Cowsills,
Young Marble Giants,
The Residents,
The Walker Brothers,
Godley & Creme,
Crash Course in Science,
Talk Talk,
Letta Mbulu,
The Smiths,
Sun City Girls,
T.S.O.L.,
Eric Dolphy,
Malaria!,
The Five Americans,
Wire,
ABBA,
Boogie Down Productions,
Jacques Brel,
The Real Kids,
Moebius,
10cc,
Roy Ayers,
John Holt,
Rod Modell,
Technova,
Hardrive,
Pussy Galore,
David McCallum,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hashim,
Animal Collective,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Unrelated Segments,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mo-Dettes,
Porter Ricks,
Motorama,
Altered Images,
X-102,
The Durutti Column,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.