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 Bangladesh and from Edmonton.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 theremin 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 The Move to the grime 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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Magazine,
Slick Rick,
Deadbeat,
Surgeon,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Eric Copeland,
Lower 48,
Pierre Henry,
Pussy Galore,
Minutemen,
Scion,
Eric B and Rakim,
CMW,
The Human League,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Television Personalities,
Pole,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bobby Sherman,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Wake,
Alison Limerick,
Yazoo,
Franke,
Deakin,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool Moe Dee,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Birthday Party,
The Buckinghams,
Fat Boys,
Bootsy Collins,
Camberwell Now,
Joy Division,
Whodini,
The Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Dave Gahan,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mission of Burma,
Joyce Sims,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Youth Brigade,
Section 25,
The Beau Brummels,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Little Man,
The Detroit Cobras,
Procol Harum,
Wolf Eyes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Spoonie Gee,
Drexciya,
The Seeds,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.