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 Denmark and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Eurythmics,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Birthday Party,
Quadrant,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lalann,
Sugar Minott,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tomorrow,
the Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Lalo Schifrin,
ABC,
Robert Wyatt,
The Selecter,
Eddi Front,
Rod Modell,
Groovy Waters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Chris & Cosey,
Flamin' Groovies,
Siglo XX,
Gong,
The Real Kids,
B.T. Express,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rekid,
The Misunderstood,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronan,
Crooked Eye,
Pole,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Maurizio,
Albert Ayler,
Fad Gadget,
a-ha,
R.M.O.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gladiators,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bauhaus,
Surgeon,
Pantytec,
Man Parrish,
T.S.O.L.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sarah Menescal,
The Invisible,
These Immortal Souls,
The Doobie Brothers,
DJ Sneak,
OOIOO,
Los Fastidios,
Motorama,
Tim Buckley,
The Young Rascals,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.