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 Papua New Guinea and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 chamberlin 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 Bobby Womack to the jazz kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Associates. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick May,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Sherman,
Rosa Yemen,
Panda Bear,
Erasure,
These Immortal Souls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Khruangbin,
Hoover,
Magazine,
Monolake,
Ossler,
Fugazi,
Marshall Jefferson,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tom Boy,
The Pretty Things,
Dual Sessions,
R.M.O.,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Schoolly D,
Intrusion,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Wake,
Jacob Miller,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bobby Byrd,
Thee Headcoats,
Laurel Aitken,
New Order,
Rites of Spring,
Loose Ends,
Alice Coltrane,
Ten City,
Tres Demented,
Vladislav Delay,
Radiohead,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scrapy,
Unwound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Darondo,
U.S. Maple,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gong,
Joe Finger,
Ultravox,
Flamin' Groovies,
Donald Byrd,
This Heat,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Section 25,
The Offenders,
Kayak,
Frankie Knuckles,
kango's stein massive,
Black Bananas,
Symarip, Symarip, Symarip, Symarip.
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.