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 Sierra Leone and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jesus and Mary Chain to the jazz 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lungfish,
ABC,
Fatback Band,
Youth Brigade,
Ash Ra Tempel,
JFA,
Pantytec,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Section 25,
Hot Snakes,
Judy Mowatt,
Yusef Lateef,
Letta Mbulu,
Visage,
Bill Wells,
Gang of Four,
Ice-T,
Michelle Simonal,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Pus,
Deakin,
The Last Poets,
Guru Guru,
Spandau Ballet,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Velvet Underground,
Barclay James Harvest,
Oneida,
DJ Style,
Rod Modell,
Brothers Johnson,
The American Breed,
The Invisible,
ABBA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Magma,
New Order,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joy Division,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sixth Finger,
Janne Schatter,
Stetsasonic,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Ralphi Rosario,
Aaron Thompson,
Stiv Bators,
Freddie Wadling,
Eric Copeland,
A Certain Ratio,
David Axelrod,
Shoche,
Desert Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Leonard Cohen,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.