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 Burkina and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 United States of America to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Victims,
Fatback Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Wally Richardson,
Metal Thangz,
Eric Copeland,
Joyce Sims,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Donny Hathaway,
Public Image Ltd.,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marvin Gaye,
La Düsseldorf,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Judy Mowatt,
The Human League,
H. Thieme,
Jeff Mills,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Boredoms,
Second Layer,
The Shadows of Knight,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Bar-Kays,
Mandrill,
Neil Young,
The Star Department,
The Searchers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Swans,
Colin Newman,
The Cowsills,
Con Funk Shun,
JFA,
Ponytail,
Bobby Sherman,
CMW,
Procol Harum,
Kayak,
Lower 48,
Lalann,
Maurizio,
The Young Rascals,
Peter and Kerry,
The Fire Engines,
Unrelated Segments,
Sexual Harrassment,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pulsallama,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Piero Umiliani,
The Move,
The Litter,
Suburban Knight,
The Moody Blues,
Pet Shop Boys,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.