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 Samoa and from Calgary.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bremen.
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 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 Fad Gadget to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aural Exciters,
Quantec,
Japan,
Cluster,
Yazoo,
Angry Samoans,
Little Man,
Clear Light,
ABBA,
Theoretical Girls,
Hasil Adkins,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mission of Burma,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dirtbombs,
48th St. Collective,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Young Rascals,
Judy Mowatt,
The Real Kids,
Sister Nancy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joe Finger,
Vainqueur,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Urselle,
Matthew Halsall,
Ornette Coleman,
Prince Buster,
Spandau Ballet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Country Teasers,
Marvin Gaye,
Parry Music,
Wire,
Cymande,
Althea and Donna,
the Fania All-Stars,
Intrusion,
Kayak,
Can,
Sam Rivers,
The Names,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Eddi Front,
Peter & Gordon,
The Misunderstood,
Crime,
Young Marble Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Unrelated Segments,
Bobby Byrd,
The Birthday Party,
Saccharine Trust,
Harpers Bizarre,
Moby Grape,
Bush Tetras,
Joe Smooth,
The Modern Lovers,
Grey Daturas,
Ultra Naté,
Nas,
Easy Going,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.