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 Ukraine and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Banda Bassotti to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New Order record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Can,
The Velvet Underground,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Dead Boys,
Ossler,
The Shadows of Knight,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
The Fugs,
Lindisfarne,
Average White Band,
Minny Pops,
Patti Smith,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barrington Levy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
June of 44,
The Flesh Eaters,
D'Angelo,
The Grass Roots,
Pharoah Sanders,
Whodini,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sight & Sound,
Stockholm Monsters,
A Flock of Seagulls,
H. Thieme,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Moss Icon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
EPMD,
Thompson Twins,
the Human League,
Erykah Badu,
Nik Kershaw,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Todd Rundgren,
Radiopuhelimet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Von Mondo,
Main Source,
Boogie Down Productions,
Das Ding,
Basic Channel,
Mars,
cv313,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Simply Red,
Eddi Front,
Lower 48,
Mandrill,
Johnny Clarke,
Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B, Sandy B.
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.