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 Austria and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar 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 Shuggie Otis to the electroclash 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 Quadrant. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Electric Prunes,
Sound Behaviour,
The Monochrome Set,
Wings,
Man Eating Sloth,
Camberwell Now,
Soul II Soul,
the Swans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobby Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Junior Murvin,
The Mojo Men,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Modern Lovers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Shuggie Otis,
Goldenarms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Faraquet,
Rotary Connection,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Whodini,
The Seeds,
The Real Kids,
The Slits,
Desert Stars,
OOIOO,
The Neon Judgement,
Altered Images,
Grey Daturas,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Gang of Four,
The Buckinghams,
Mars,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick May,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Moleskins,
John Lydon,
Lou Reed,
Lakeside,
Joe Finger,
Pagans,
Swell Maps,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ornette Coleman,
Agent Orange,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Deadbeat,
Harmonia,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Almond,
Trumans Water,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dennis Brown,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yaz, Yaz, Yaz, Yaz.
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.