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 Peru and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Hasil Adkins to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bootsy Collins,
CMW,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sex Pistols,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Althea and Donna,
The Fugs,
the Bar-Kays,
Alphaville,
The Cure,
Rapeman,
John Lydon,
David Bowie,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cecil Taylor,
The Human League,
Jacob Miller,
Man Eating Sloth,
Soft Machine,
Ornette Coleman,
Roxette,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Roger Hodgson,
Outsiders,
Kaleidoscope,
Harmonia,
Tommy Roe,
Fat Boys,
Maurizio,
Marmalade,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jandek,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camouflage,
Heaven 17,
The Smoke,
Main Source,
Drive Like Jehu,
Unwound,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Susan Cadogan,
Josef K,
Albert Ayler,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Hill,
The Red Krayola,
Khruangbin,
Agitation Free,
Mantronix,
Derrick May,
the Association,
The Buckinghams,
The Monochrome Set,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
Lindisfarne,
The Busters,
Sight & Sound,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.