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 Solomon Islands and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet 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 Moby Grape to the crunk 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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All The Index tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
The Flesh Eaters,
R.M.O.,
The Zeros,
Boredoms,
MC5,
Dorothy Ashby,
Loose Ends,
Hashim,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yusef Lateef,
Minor Threat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Donald Byrd,
The Names,
Archie Shepp,
Ice-T,
Nas,
The Saints,
Royal Trux,
Moby Grape,
Oblivians,
James White and The Blacks,
Reagan Youth,
Crooked Eye,
Grauzone,
Nation of Ulysses,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Angels of Light,
Marvin Gaye,
Arthur Verocai,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cure,
Nik Kershaw,
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
Brick,
Eric Copeland,
Sonic Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Bizarre Inc.,
a-ha,
the Normal,
Ludus,
DJ Style,
Metal Thangz,
T. Rex,
Skarface,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Silicon Teens,
Essential Logic,
New York Dolls,
Index,
Rakim,
the Association,
Alphaville,
The Durutti Column,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bluetip,
Television,
Bobby Byrd,
Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur, Vainqueur.
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.