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 Congo and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the güiro 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 Black Pus to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Malaria! record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minor Threat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Junior Murvin,
Nation of Ulysses,
Suicide,
Kaleidoscope,
Dark Day,
Parry Music,
Surgeon,
The American Breed,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lungfish,
The United States of America,
Fear,
The Leaves,
James White and The Blacks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Stereo Dub,
Easy Going,
Scion,
Juan Atkins,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Bananas,
China Crisis,
Flipper,
Panda Bear,
Ultravox,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Starr,
Eve St. Jones,
Pierre Henry,
Cameo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ten City,
The Cure,
Laurel Aitken,
Jeff Mills,
Flash Fearless,
Chris & Cosey,
Faraquet,
Gang of Four,
Pagans,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Sherman,
Rotary Connection,
Steve Hackett,
Mission of Burma,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sarah Menescal,
Agitation Free,
Magazine,
Tears for Fears,
Blossom Toes,
Theoretical Girls,
Lower 48,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Aloha Tigers,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.