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 Uzbekistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Busters to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Outsiders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echospace,
Fatback Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Erykah Badu,
Soft Cell,
China Crisis,
Andrew Hill,
Radio Birdman,
Hoover,
a-ha,
The Star Department,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Newcleus,
Porter Ricks,
Circle Jerks,
X-Ray Spex,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Aaron Thompson,
Sandy B,
Inner City,
The Cure,
Dennis Brown,
Franke,
Ultravox,
Agitation Free,
Second Layer,
Jerry's Kids,
Delta 5,
The Music Machine,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Eating Sloth,
Arcadia,
Leonard Cohen,
Alton Ellis,
Minor Threat,
Ronnie Foster,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Magazine,
The Residents,
These Immortal Souls,
Moby Grape,
The Blackbyrds,
The Vogues,
One Last Wish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sixth Finger,
Chrome,
Hashim,
The United States of America,
Buzzcocks,
Todd Rundgren,
Excepter,
Pere Ubu,
F. McDonald,
Young Marble Giants,
The Martian,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Blues Magoos,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.