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 Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Moleskins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Buzzcocks,
H. Thieme,
Anakelly,
Derrick Morgan,
Idris Muhammad,
Chrome,
Grey Daturas,
Alice Coltrane,
Soft Machine,
The Fugs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Todd Terry,
Freddie Wadling,
Peter & Gordon,
Simply Red,
Pagans,
Banda Bassotti,
Dead Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Zeros,
The Fuzztones,
Alison Limerick,
Donald Byrd,
Magazine,
Masters at Work,
Liliput,
Andrew Hill,
Eric Dolphy,
LL Cool J,
Bad Manners,
Eric B and Rakim,
David Bowie,
Dennis Brown,
Youth Brigade,
Flipper,
U.S. Maple,
These Immortal Souls,
The Selecter,
Hardrive,
Kenny Larkin,
Fear,
Bronski Beat,
The Tremeloes,
The Smoke,
Warsaw,
Gang of Four,
Henry Cow,
The Dead C,
Yusef Lateef,
Quantec,
Black Flag,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Icehouse,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lightning Bolt,
Sexual Harrassment,
Loose Ends,
The Blues Magoos,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Motorama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.