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 Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the funk 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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All James Chance & The Contortions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
The Gladiators,
Ossler,
Tomorrow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Seeds,
The Grass Roots,
Delon & Dalcan,
June of 44,
Patti Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
Darondo,
Nik Kershaw,
Malaria!,
The Walker Brothers,
Royal Trux,
Q and Not U,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ralphi Rosario,
Japan,
Technova,
The Mummies,
Black Pus,
Man Parrish,
X-101,
Gang Green,
The Angels of Light,
The Victims,
Trumans Water,
Arab on Radar,
Rufus Thomas,
Bluetip,
The Cure,
Peter and Kerry,
Agitation Free,
The Selecter,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Intrusion,
Flash Fearless,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
Little Man,
Idris Muhammad,
Max Romeo,
Yusef Lateef,
Public Enemy,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scion,
The Dead C,
Eden Ahbez,
Wire,
Rekid,
The Knickerbockers,
The J.B.'s,
Siglo XX,
Scott Walker,
Sex Pistols,
Soul Sonic Force,
Young Marble Giants,
Brass Construction,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.