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 Cameroon and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
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 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Residents,
Accadde A,
Lee Hazlewood,
EPMD,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eddi Front,
Jandek,
Rufus Thomas,
Fatback Band,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Section 25,
Faraquet,
Jeff Mills,
One Last Wish,
Lakeside,
Minutemen,
The Real Kids,
Harpers Bizarre,
Boredoms,
Eve St. Jones,
Robert Hood,
Sex Pistols,
Fela Kuti,
Aswad,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Last Poets,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Eli Mardock,
R.M.O.,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Von Mondo,
Spandau Ballet,
Icehouse,
the Soft Cell,
Model 500,
Soft Machine,
Essential Logic,
Lungfish,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pierre Henry,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ken Boothe,
Youth Brigade,
Niagra,
Depeche Mode,
Sarah Menescal,
Bobby Womack,
Panda Bear,
The Smoke,
Popol Vuh,
Shoche,
Thee Headcoats,
The Modern Lovers,
Bronski Beat,
Gang Starr,
8 Eyed Spy,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül II,
Surgeon,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.