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 Finland and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 Donald Fagen 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 New Christs to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
The Vogues,
Metal Thangz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
In Retrospect,
The Tremeloes,
Slick Rick,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Invisible,
The J.B.'s,
Camberwell Now,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eve St. Jones,
Roger Hodgson,
Index,
The Monks,
Section 25,
Derrick Morgan,
The Golliwogs,
Bang On A Can,
Agitation Free,
Brass Construction,
Supertramp,
Susan Cadogan,
Quantec,
John Holt,
Colin Newman,
Adolescents,
the Slits,
Khruangbin,
Drexciya,
Suburban Knight,
E-Dancer,
Nico,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jacques Brel,
Wolf Eyes,
Marvin Gaye,
Funkadelic,
Tres Demented,
Ohio Players,
Flamin' Groovies,
Subhumans,
Piero Umiliani,
The Red Krayola,
ABC,
The Modern Lovers,
Duran Duran,
B.T. Express,
Cheater Slicks,
Carl Craig,
Johnny Clarke,
Gong,
Pussy Galore,
Rotary Connection,
Oneida,
Average White Band,
Little Man,
Trumans Water,
Fat Boys,
Fatback Band,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.