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 Laos and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Winnipeg.
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 linndrum 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 The Divine Comedy to the funk 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
8 Eyed Spy,
the Germs,
T. Rex,
Magazine,
Pere Ubu,
Soul II Soul,
the Fania All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Malaria!,
Cymande,
David Bowie,
Skaos,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Moby Grape,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cybotron,
JFA,
Minutemen,
Soft Machine,
John Foxx,
The Fire Engines,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
X-102,
Massinfluence,
Zapp,
Desert Stars,
FM Einheit,
Delta 5,
Warsaw,
Ronnie Foster,
Minor Threat,
Dennis Brown,
Fifty Foot Hose,
In Retrospect,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Tremeloes,
the Human League,
The Five Americans,
Arab on Radar,
Maleditus Sound,
Black Bananas,
Derrick May,
Fela Kuti,
Kayak,
Anakelly,
The Dead C,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cramps,
Arcadia,
Godley & Creme,
Grauzone,
Nirvana,
Suicide,
Archie Shepp,
Lee Hazlewood,
Andrew Hill,
Darondo,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.