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 Woodstock.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Don Cherry to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kaleidoscope record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Davy DMX,
The Angels of Light,
The Motions,
Aloha Tigers,
Eve St. Jones,
Nas,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Andrew Hill,
Junior Murvin,
Clear Light,
The Electric Prunes,
Qualms,
Metal Thangz,
Brothers Johnson,
Johnny Clarke,
Pere Ubu,
F. McDonald,
Average White Band,
Max Romeo,
Boz Scaggs,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Charles Mingus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lakeside,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Joey Negro,
Lucky Dragons,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Divine Comedy,
Magazine,
The New Christs,
Supertramp,
Vainqueur,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
Harry Pussy,
Reagan Youth,
John Holt,
The Fugs,
The Mummies,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy Collins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Desert Stars,
Panda Bear,
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
This Heat,
Marcia Griffiths,
Deakin,
ABBA,
Mark Hollis,
Ronan,
X-Ray Spex,
Banda Bassotti,
The Standells,
Soft Machine,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Arcadia,
Jeru the Damaja,
Niagra,
Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez, Eden Ahbez.
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.