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 Congo and from Jakarta.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Fela Kuti to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kango’s Stein Massive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Selecter,
Alice Coltrane,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Monks,
Gong,
Andrew Hill,
PIL,
R.M.O.,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Niagra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Y Pants,
Ice-T,
Alison Limerick,
Rites of Spring,
Pulsallama,
Grey Daturas,
Wings,
Cymande,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q65,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Half Japanese,
Sister Nancy,
MC5,
The Fugs,
The Techniques,
Icehouse,
the Fania All-Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Clear Light,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dual Sessions,
T.S.O.L.,
The Last Poets,
Unwound,
These Immortal Souls,
Lightning Bolt,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radio Birdman,
Mo-Dettes,
Blossom Toes,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Henry Cow,
Make Up,
Roger Hodgson,
New York Dolls,
Spoonie Gee,
Pet Shop Boys,
Crime,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Public Enemy,
Johnny Clarke,
Nas,
Laurel Aitken,
Popol Vuh,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.