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 Laos and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 F. McDonald to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
The Litter,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
John Cale,
Public Enemy,
T.S.O.L.,
Amon Düül,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Symarip,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Skriet,
Fatback Band,
The Wake,
Siglo XX,
Camberwell Now,
Hot Snakes,
Rakim,
Y Pants,
Alton Ellis,
The Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smoke,
Panda Bear,
Crime,
Mission of Burma,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quando Quango,
Pere Ubu,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Robert Hood,
Lakeside,
The Angels of Light,
The Standells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Quadrant,
Brand Nubian,
Massinfluence,
Dead Boys,
Outsiders,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harry Pussy,
The Monochrome Set,
Lee Hazlewood,
Minnie Riperton,
Johnny Osbourne,
Charles Mingus,
Sonic Youth,
Joey Negro,
Joy Division,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Minor Threat,
Rod Modell,
Kaleidoscope,
Deadbeat,
Sonny Sharrock,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.