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 Belgium and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Glambeats Corp.,
Make Up,
Guru Guru,
Man Eating Sloth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blossom Toes,
Donny Hathaway,
Interpol,
Aural Exciters,
Deepchord,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Quadrant,
John Cale,
Gregory Isaacs,
Connie Case,
Ossler,
Blancmange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
the Germs,
Amazonics,
Half Japanese,
Sugar Minott,
Swell Maps,
The United States of America,
Moss Icon,
Monks,
Newcleus,
Pagans,
Steve Hackett,
Tubeway Army,
KRS-One,
Das Ding,
Skaos,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Freddie Wadling,
The Happenings,
UT,
One Last Wish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Radio Birdman,
Rufus Thomas,
Japan,
Duran Duran,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Blackbyrds,
Juan Atkins,
Derrick Morgan,
Josef K,
Lucky Dragons,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lungfish,
Lyres,
Quando Quango,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.