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 Madagascar and from Johannesburg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 The J.B.'s to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cecil Taylor,
Eve St. Jones,
ABBA,
Bobby Sherman,
The Invisible,
Ornette Coleman,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sixth Finger,
Henry Cow,
KRS-One,
The Star Department,
Banda Bassotti,
Carl Craig,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dawn Penn,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tubeway Army,
Ken Boothe,
Gregory Isaacs,
Danielle Patucci,
Boz Scaggs,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Starr,
The Martian,
Kaleidoscope,
Sparks,
David McCallum,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Archie Shepp,
Lindisfarne,
Warsaw,
Monks,
Agitation Free,
The Gories,
The Misunderstood,
Neu!,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Sound,
Man Parrish,
Interpol,
A Flock of Seagulls,
EPMD,
Model 500,
the Germs,
Schoolly D,
Spandau Ballet,
Sandy B,
Rapeman,
The Moody Blues,
Sonic Youth,
Ludus,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.