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 Uruguay and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ 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 Kerri Chandler to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Chrome,
The Pretty Things,
Bootsy Collins,
The Walker Brothers,
The Five Americans,
the Germs,
Parry Music,
The Cowsills,
Smog,
the Association,
Bang On A Can,
Echospace,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Don Cherry,
The Toasters,
Goldenarms,
Eyeless In Gaza,
AZ,
Clear Light,
The Smoke,
Matthew Bourne,
Kayak,
Popol Vuh,
The Knickerbockers,
The Cramps,
The Fuzztones,
The Index,
Isaac Hayes,
The Star Department,
The Selecter,
Robert Hood,
Ten City,
The J.B.'s,
Funky Four + One,
Main Source,
Tres Demented,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barrington Levy,
Ultimate Spinach,
David Axelrod,
The New Christs,
Buzzcocks,
Black Sheep,
Wire,
Cymande,
Lou Christie,
Ultra Naté,
The Leaves,
Intrusion,
Grauzone,
Siglo XX,
Charles Mingus,
The Doors,
Brothers Johnson,
Groovy Waters,
The Real Kids,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal, Michelle Simonal.
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.