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 Comoros and from Seoul.
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 Beijing and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 The Martian to the rap 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 Sarah Menescal. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Selector Dub Narcotic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Section 25 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Piero Umiliani,
Sparks,
Sexual Harrassment,
La Düsseldorf,
Jawbox,
The Fugs,
Don Cherry,
Soft Cell,
Erykah Badu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
A Certain Ratio,
The Gladiators,
Guru Guru,
Pantytec,
the Bar-Kays,
Theoretical Girls,
Shoche,
Banda Bassotti,
Ken Boothe,
Silicon Teens,
Hoover,
Lightning Bolt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Nico,
Cymande,
Amon Düül,
Qualms,
Spandau Ballet,
Albert Ayler,
Cluster,
The Misunderstood,
Skriet,
Derrick Morgan,
Mr. Review,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Count Five,
Harmonia,
Jandek,
Bang On A Can,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Invisible,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bauhaus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Kinks,
Tres Demented,
Essential Logic,
Lucky Dragons,
Sister Nancy,
Sonic Youth,
These Immortal Souls,
K-Klass,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Wake,
Nirvana,
Monks,
Gregory Isaacs,
MC5,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.