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 Guatemala and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Letta Mbulu 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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Michelle Simonal 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 marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mo-Dettes,
Bill Near,
Agent Orange,
Animal Collective,
Black Pus,
The Martian,
Radio Birdman,
Mantronix,
The Raincoats,
Gang Starr,
Eric Copeland,
Rakim,
La Düsseldorf,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Junior Murvin,
Crooked Eye,
Alton Ellis,
DNA,
Charles Mingus,
Danielle Patucci,
The Busters,
the Sonics,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Nirvana,
Patti Smith,
The Monks,
MC5,
Swans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hashim,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
Pylon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pierre Henry,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Black Dice,
EPMD,
Minny Pops,
The Last Poets,
Groovy Waters,
Joyce Sims,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Music Machine,
The United States of America,
Deepchord,
AZ,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Scratch Acid,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Pretty Things,
K-Klass,
Ultra Naté,
New Order,
The Doors,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.