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 Russia and from Columbus.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Beijing.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joyce Sims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
Television Personalities,
Toni Rubio,
Ronan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Siglo XX,
The Leaves,
The Fire Engines,
Accadde A,
Juan Atkins,
Peter and Kerry,
Johnny Clarke,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Cowsills,
Ken Boothe,
The Happenings,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ludus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Misunderstood,
Mantronix,
Lindisfarne,
Guru Guru,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Interpol,
The Kinks,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Underground Resistance,
David Bowie,
Chris & Cosey,
Gichy Dan,
Urselle,
Lalo Schifrin,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cecil Taylor,
New York Dolls,
Public Enemy,
Buzzcocks,
The Real Kids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scion,
F. McDonald,
48th St. Collective,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
R.M.O.,
Suburban Knight,
Traffic Nightmare,
John Cale,
Robert Hood,
Amon Düül II,
Circle Jerks,
Lyres,
Johnny Osbourne,
Spandau Ballet,
Rufus Thomas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The American Breed,
Joy Division,
The Detroit Cobras,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.