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 Turkey and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
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 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 Kas Product to the rock 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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Fania All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Wells,
Danielle Patucci,
Goldenarms,
Sexual Harrassment,
Q and Not U,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Offenders,
Lou Reed,
Hasil Adkins,
Malaria!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glenn Branca,
Davy DMX,
Fad Gadget,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Magma,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Isaac Hayes,
Wire,
Roy Ayers,
the Swans,
Main Source,
Bootsy Collins,
Colin Newman,
Liliput,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amazonics,
Carl Craig,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Monolake,
The Saints,
Kerrie Biddell,
Radiopuhelimet,
Reagan Youth,
Fugazi,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
A Certain Ratio,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Mary Jane Girls,
Al Stewart,
X-Ray Spex,
Country Teasers,
Newcleus,
The Selecter,
Tommy Roe,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Bowie,
The Martian,
Sun City Girls,
Von Mondo,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Slits,
Japan,
The Music Machine,
The Remains,
Saccharine Trust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.