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 Czech Republic and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 guitar 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 The Blackbyrds to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Hot Snakes,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Ohio Players,
ABC,
48th St. Collective,
Mark Hollis,
DJ Sneak,
the Slits,
Altered Images,
Scion,
Scientists,
Ituana,
Erasure,
Japan,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Moon,
Lou Christie,
Gang Gang Dance,
Oneida,
The Blackbyrds,
Little Man,
World's Most,
Ossler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Royal Trux,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mad Mike,
Eve St. Jones,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Human League,
Donny Hathaway,
Marmalade,
Aswad,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rufus Thomas,
Absolute Body Control,
Sparks,
The Star Department,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mandrill,
Gichy Dan,
The Electric Prunes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mars,
Bizarre Inc.,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sun Ra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Schoolly D,
Harry Pussy,
Excepter,
Lou Reed,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
EPMD,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.