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 Senegal and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the disco 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 The Young Rascals. All the underground hits.
All Minutemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Standells,
Soft Machine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Quadrant,
Au Pairs,
Q65,
David Bowie,
Q and Not U,
Rhythm & Sound,
LL Cool J,
Radiopuhelimet,
48th St. Collective,
Carl Craig,
Wolf Eyes,
Spandau Ballet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
the Sonics,
Vladislav Delay,
Crooked Eye,
X-Ray Spex,
John Coltrane,
The Fugs,
The Buckinghams,
Bobby Byrd,
Connie Case,
The Gap Band,
The Techniques,
Johnny Osbourne,
Easy Going,
The Names,
X-101,
Los Fastidios,
Archie Shepp,
Royal Trux,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Lindisfarne,
The Last Poets,
The Doors,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Womack,
Aloha Tigers,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
B.T. Express,
Kerri Chandler,
Vainqueur,
Nick Fraelich,
The Misunderstood,
Graham Central Station,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Ice-T,
The Evens,
The Fortunes,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
China Crisis,
Harry Pussy,
Letta Mbulu,
Ronan,
Warsaw,
The Neon Judgement,
Faraquet,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.