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 Tonga and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Cairo.
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 chamberlin 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer 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 organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
The Buckinghams,
Sight & Sound,
Morten Harket,
Clear Light,
Todd Rundgren,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jawbox,
Darondo,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Sonics,
Andrew Hill,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang Green,
Rotary Connection,
Amon Düül II,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Smiths,
Sällskapet,
Banda Bassotti,
CMW,
JFA,
Cameo,
Sex Pistols,
Pierre Henry,
The Victims,
Jeff Lynne,
Grauzone,
Infiniti,
Man Eating Sloth,
T. Rex,
Delon & Dalcan,
Maleditus Sound,
Kas Product,
Scan 7,
The Residents,
The Trojans,
The Gladiators,
Agent Orange,
Man Parrish,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Searchers,
Leonard Cohen,
Jacob Miller,
Moby Grape,
Iggy Pop,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
David Bowie,
Slave,
Ohio Players,
The Slackers,
Gang of Four,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monochrome Set,
Sandy B,
The Fire Engines,
The Cramps,
Brothers Johnson,
The Pop Group,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Depeche Mode,
Fluxion,
Amon Düül,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.