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 Sudan and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Boogie Down Productions to the grunge 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Television Personalities tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
The Slits,
The Saints,
Robert Wyatt,
Index,
The Gladiators,
Agent Orange,
Eve St. Jones,
The Techniques,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Doors,
Avey Tare,
Royal Trux,
Lower 48,
Hashim,
Masters at Work,
Gang of Four,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tubeway Army,
Joensuu 1685,
The Fugs,
The Blackbyrds,
The Cramps,
Marine Girls,
Cal Tjader,
The Seeds,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Symarip,
The Sonics,
The Zeros,
The Fire Engines,
Oneida,
Faust,
Ice-T,
The Grass Roots,
Animal Collective,
The Index,
Letta Mbulu,
David Axelrod,
The Litter,
Piero Umiliani,
Michelle Simonal,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker,
Aloha Tigers,
Rites of Spring,
Circle Jerks,
The Pop Group,
Mad Mike,
Blossom Toes,
Eric Copeland,
Popol Vuh,
DJ Sneak,
Black Sheep,
Jacob Miller,
The Electric Prunes,
The Human League,
ABBA,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.