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 Romania and from Madrid.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Eve St. Jones to the crunk 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 Absolute Body Control. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DeepChord presents Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Flesh Eaters,
Model 500,
Jawbox,
Severed Heads,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Human League,
Rosa Yemen,
Juan Atkins,
Jacob Miller,
Sight & Sound,
Interpol,
Siglo XX,
Los Fastidios,
Hardrive,
Terry Callier,
The Moleskins,
Stiv Bators,
Tears for Fears,
Ken Boothe,
Henry Cow,
Radio Birdman,
Suburban Knight,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joyce Sims,
Average White Band,
Scott Walker,
Albert Ayler,
Rufus Thomas,
Scratch Acid,
Jeru the Damaja,
Livin' Joy,
The Victims,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eurythmics,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nirvana,
Index,
Urselle,
The Associates,
Public Enemy,
Vladislav Delay,
DNA,
Nik Kershaw,
Joy Division,
Adolescents,
Fad Gadget,
Bad Manners,
Monolake,
The Kinks,
Blake Baxter,
The United States of America,
The Sound,
Hasil Adkins,
Sixth Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Mr. Review,
The Doobie Brothers,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.