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 South Africa and from Stockholm.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kenny Larkin to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
X-101,
Yaz,
Blossom Toes,
Bush Tetras,
Oblivians,
Aural Exciters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Donald Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aloha Tigers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sällskapet,
Patti Smith,
Boredoms,
Scion,
Black Flag,
Charles Mingus,
The J.B.'s,
Fluxion,
The Neon Judgement,
Fela Kuti,
Cluster,
The Real Kids,
Silicon Teens,
The Move,
Howard Jones,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Alton Ellis,
Letta Mbulu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Maurizio,
Malaria!,
Ken Boothe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sparks,
Nas,
The Buckinghams,
Lee Hazlewood,
Main Source,
Kurtis Blow,
Brothers Johnson,
Pulsallama,
Fugazi,
Siglo XX,
Gabor Szabo,
the Germs,
The Seeds,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Curtis Mayfield,
Flash Fearless,
Bill Near,
Minor Threat,
Chris & Cosey,
Animal Collective,
Monks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Groovy Waters,
Sex Pistols,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.