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 Zambia 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Manchester.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Los Fastidios to the rap 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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Sherman,
Mandrill,
The Electric Prunes,
Von Mondo,
Loose Ends,
Man Parrish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Misunderstood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swell Maps,
The Mojo Men,
Stiv Bators,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Das Ding,
Tim Buckley,
Panda Bear,
Harry Pussy,
Bronski Beat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
June Days,
Nas,
New Order,
Soulsonic Force,
Fela Kuti,
Rhythm & Sound,
Throbbing Gristle,
Cluster,
The Searchers,
Eden Ahbez,
Flipper,
Faraquet,
Boz Scaggs,
The Neon Judgement,
Aloha Tigers,
John Cale,
Drexciya,
Alice Coltrane,
The Birthday Party,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
World's Most,
One Last Wish,
Pole,
Davy DMX,
Ultra Naté,
James White and The Blacks,
Brand Nubian,
The Golliwogs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Aaron Thompson,
The Raincoats,
Interpol,
UT,
The Young Rascals,
Y Pants,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kayak,
DJ Sneak,
Whodini,
Wally Richardson,
Wolf Eyes,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.