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 Laos and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Glasgow.
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 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
The Techniques,
Con Funk Shun,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
T.S.O.L.,
Boredoms,
Guru Guru,
R.M.O.,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barbara Tucker,
Moss Icon,
The Star Department,
Carl Craig,
Byron Stingily,
the Association,
Pole,
Scratch Acid,
Terry Callier,
The Misunderstood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pantaleimon,
Procol Harum,
Accadde A,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gories,
Fear,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Zapp,
The Move,
The Doobie Brothers,
cv313,
Reuben Wilson,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Archie Shepp,
Scion,
Skarface,
Sam Rivers,
The Beau Brummels,
Ten City,
Maurizio,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Quadrant,
Sun Ra,
Little Man,
Q65,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Electric Prunes,
The Gun Club,
Cheater Slicks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Leaves,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Stetsasonic,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dirtbombs,
Easy Going,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity, Roy Ayers Ubiquity.
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.