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 Guinea and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 The Motions to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Y Pants,
Minny Pops,
The Gun Club,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eric Copeland,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tres Demented,
Cal Tjader,
The New Christs,
John Coltrane,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Neu!,
Stetsasonic,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Darondo,
Quantec,
The Durutti Column,
Pagans,
Jacob Miller,
Minor Threat,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jeff Lynne,
Motorama,
The Angels of Light,
Morten Harket,
Lungfish,
Glenn Branca,
Danielle Patucci,
Funkadelic,
Unwound,
Model 500,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Fortunes,
Eden Ahbez,
The Beau Brummels,
Clear Light,
The Cure,
Loose Ends,
Cybotron,
Gichy Dan,
Smog,
Judy Mowatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Von Mondo,
Agent Orange,
Echospace,
the Sonics,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Leaves,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fire Engines,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare,
Main Source,
Infiniti,
Erykah Badu,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo, Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo.
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.