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 Japan and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator 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 Blossom Toes to the crunk 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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Grauzone,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Grass Roots,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Tommy Roe,
Gastr Del Sol,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Man Parrish,
A Certain Ratio,
Audionom,
Magma,
Wolf Eyes,
Lyres,
MDC,
Lee Hazlewood,
Sun Ra,
Brass Construction,
Duran Duran,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sparks,
Con Funk Shun,
K-Klass,
Dead Boys,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Morten Harket,
Animal Collective,
Absolute Body Control,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Selecter,
The Dirtbombs,
Fat Boys,
The Wake,
Procol Harum,
Pole,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Sherman,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Talk Talk,
MC5,
the Slits,
Average White Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Lynne,
The Martian,
Maleditus Sound,
Nico,
Big Daddy Kane,
Jandek,
Jacob Miller,
Warsaw,
Nirvana,
The Kinks,
The Monks,
Donald Byrd,
Stockholm Monsters,
T. Rex,
Eden Ahbez,
U.S. Maple,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Rahsaan Roland Kirk.
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.