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 Mauritania 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 Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Lou Reed 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 Bootsy Collins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Parry Music,
The Star Department,
Charles Mingus,
Matthew Halsall,
CMW,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Subhumans,
Harmonia,
The Tremeloes,
Ultra Naté,
Hot Snakes,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Real Kids,
Gastr Del Sol,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
James White and The Blacks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Hasil Adkins,
The Offenders,
Agitation Free,
Minutemen,
Thompson Twins,
Second Layer,
Ossler,
Panda Bear,
Michelle Simonal,
The Skatalites,
The Gories,
Brand Nubian,
Masters at Work,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Kayak,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Technova,
EPMD,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Vladislav Delay,
Fad Gadget,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Names,
JFA,
Arab on Radar,
Danielle Patucci,
Barrington Levy,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
Marine Girls,
Urselle,
Idris Muhammad,
Young Marble Giants,
Kas Product,
Cluster,
Judy Mowatt,
cv313,
LL Cool J,
L. Decosne,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Walker Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dead C,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.