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 Romania and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Isaac Hayes to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Anakelly,
Rekid,
Flash Fearless,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gong,
The United States of America,
Pulsallama,
Ronnie Foster,
Kenny Larkin,
Soft Cell,
Joey Negro,
Toni Rubio,
Sparks,
Interpol,
The Blues Magoos,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Public Image Ltd.,
New York Dolls,
Accadde A,
Crime,
Q and Not U,
Au Pairs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oblivians,
The Pretty Things,
the Slits,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Christie,
Tears for Fears,
The Cowsills,
Lakeside,
The Residents,
Masters at Work,
Soul II Soul,
The Red Krayola,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Black Dice,
Section 25,
Duran Duran,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Porter Ricks,
Sun Ra,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Los Fastidios,
Harpers Bizarre,
The J.B.'s,
Reagan Youth,
Qualms,
Bootsy Collins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Neon Judgement,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rosa Yemen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Al Stewart,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Talk Talk,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.