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 Chile and from Spokane.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Chris Corsano to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
DJ Sneak,
Graham Central Station,
Avey Tare,
New Age Steppers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Depeche Mode,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
The Smiths,
Fad Gadget,
New Order,
FM Einheit,
Franke,
Rites of Spring,
Ituana,
Massinfluence,
Joyce Sims,
Lalo Schifrin,
Subhumans,
Spoonie Gee,
Faust,
Sonic Youth,
Soft Cell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Real Kids,
Darondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Neil Young,
Excepter,
Prince Buster,
X-Ray Spex,
kango's stein massive,
These Immortal Souls,
Simply Red,
This Heat,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Trojans,
Oblivians,
The Misunderstood,
Cybotron,
June Days,
A Certain Ratio,
Glenn Branca,
Gastr Del Sol,
Throbbing Gristle,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Fraelich,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Association,
OOIOO,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Tears for Fears,
Terry Callier,
Eddi Front,
Reagan Youth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bill Near,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.