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 Estonia and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the snare 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 Intrusion to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mo-Dettes. All the underground hits.
All Depeche Mode tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Joe & The Fish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Monks,
The Golliwogs,
Howard Jones,
The Mojo Men,
Stiv Bators,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rod Modell,
Siglo XX,
Wasted Youth,
Judy Mowatt,
The Fugs,
Robert Görl,
CMW,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cybotron,
48th St. Collective,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Slackers,
Outsiders,
EPMD,
Swell Maps,
The Real Kids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sarah Menescal,
Dawn Penn,
The Martian,
Pharoah Sanders,
David McCallum,
Skarface,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Blake Baxter,
Das Ding,
The Moleskins,
Excepter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Erykah Badu,
The Blackbyrds,
Kayak,
the Swans,
Mars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Aural Exciters,
Gabor Szabo,
Camouflage,
The Dead C,
Public Enemy,
The Grass Roots,
Agent Orange,
Piero Umiliani,
Johnny Clarke,
David Axelrod,
Buzzcocks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Wire,
The Misunderstood,
Barrington Levy,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.