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 Nicaragua and from Paris.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Stooges to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scott Walker + Sunn O))) record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
New Age Steppers,
Severed Heads,
Intrusion,
Man Eating Sloth,
Duran Duran,
F. McDonald,
Prince Buster,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lindisfarne,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gabor Szabo,
Little Man,
Joyce Sims,
Don Cherry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roy Ayers,
Carl Craig,
The Count Five,
Sonic Youth,
Sun Ra,
Symarip,
The Offenders,
Lalann,
Youth Brigade,
The Standells,
The Buckinghams,
Rod Modell,
The Trojans,
Flash Fearless,
Pylon,
The Grass Roots,
Harmonia,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fluxion,
Kurtis Blow,
The Gun Club,
Surgeon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Vladislav Delay,
Magazine,
Metal Thangz,
Iggy Pop,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Warsaw,
Tres Demented,
Ultravox,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Dolphy,
Sexual Harrassment,
James White and The Blacks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Barry Ungar,
Liliput,
R.M.O.,
The Seeds,
X-101,
Bizarre Inc.,
In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect, In Retrospect.
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.