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 Jordan and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 48th St. Collective to the crunk 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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television Personalities,
Zero Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Soulsonic Force,
Harry Pussy,
Sex Pistols,
Wasted Youth,
Ohio Players,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lucky Dragons,
Funky Four + One,
Tres Demented,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Howard Jones,
June of 44,
Connie Case,
Cal Tjader,
New York Dolls,
Ralphi Rosario,
JFA,
R.M.O.,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Moleskins,
Warsaw,
Urselle,
Sällskapet,
Anakelly,
Khruangbin,
The Stooges,
Newcleus,
Lakeside,
The Fall,
Gang of Four,
Severed Heads,
Sight & Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Television,
Second Layer,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rites of Spring,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
T. Rex,
Cheater Slicks,
Chris Corsano,
The Mojo Men,
Kenny Larkin,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Gladiators,
Rod Modell,
Babytalk,
Graham Central Station,
Mark Hollis,
Motorama,
Ronnie Foster,
Sun City Girls,
Reuben Wilson,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.