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 Mozambique and from Halifax.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 Kinks to the electroclash 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soulsonic Force 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
Con Funk Shun,
Pole,
Livin' Joy,
Metal Thangz,
the Human League,
John Foxx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minutemen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Nation of Ulysses,
Albert Ayler,
The Mummies,
Lower 48,
Boz Scaggs,
Mark Hollis,
The Evens,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mary Jane Girls,
Make Up,
The Kinks,
Fad Gadget,
Glambeats Corp.,
Camberwell Now,
The Neon Judgement,
The Beau Brummels,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yusef Lateef,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rites of Spring,
Can,
the Germs,
Alice Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Cybotron,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Grey Daturas,
John Coltrane,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tim Buckley,
Harmonia,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Carl Craig,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
La Düsseldorf,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Youth Brigade,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Fluxion,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ice-T,
Spoonie Gee,
Agent Orange,
Circle Jerks,
The Move,
The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set, The Monochrome Set.
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.