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 Costa Rica and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Sly & The Family Stone to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Flamin' Groovies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
Panda Bear,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Boogie Down Productions,
Kerrie Biddell,
Stiv Bators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Cameo,
Pantaleimon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Cramps,
Joyce Sims,
Derrick Morgan,
Au Pairs,
B.T. Express,
The Misunderstood,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy Collins,
Arab on Radar,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Erykah Badu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Audionom,
Davy DMX,
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
Unwound,
David Bowie,
Delta 5,
Pulsallama,
The Golliwogs,
Cymande,
The New Christs,
Technova,
Jeff Mills,
Soft Machine,
EPMD,
Marine Girls,
Barry Ungar,
kango's stein massive,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Stockholm Monsters,
Robert Görl,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mandrill,
Eden Ahbez,
The Buckinghams,
John Coltrane,
Cheater Slicks,
The Gap Band,
The Cowsills,
The Residents,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rites of Spring,
June of 44,
Isaac Hayes,
Depeche Mode,
Fluxion,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.