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 Fiji and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Schoolly D record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Minor Threat,
Ultra Naté,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Blackbyrds,
Nation of Ulysses,
Theoretical Girls,
Ken Boothe,
World's Most,
Lebanon Hanover,
Charles Mingus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Agitation Free,
Gang of Four,
A Certain Ratio,
Donald Byrd,
Thompson Twins,
Lou Christie,
Michelle Simonal,
MC5,
Janne Schatter,
The Gories,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Count Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Tears for Fears,
Panda Bear,
Lightning Bolt,
The Happenings,
Anthony Braxton,
Scratch Acid,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tom Boy,
Godley & Creme,
Con Funk Shun,
Faraquet,
Prince Buster,
Buzzcocks,
Jeru the Damaja,
Laurel Aitken,
Bauhaus,
Quando Quango,
Magma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Slackers,
Minnie Riperton,
Erykah Badu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hasil Adkins,
Japan,
The Red Krayola,
Ludus,
Soul II Soul,
Brand Nubian,
Patti Smith,
Motorama,
Sonic Youth,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sun City Girls,
Pagans,
Skriet,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.