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 Andorra and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Fad Gadget to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Pierre Henry,
Negative Approach,
Livin' Joy,
Joe Smooth,
Pussy Galore,
Terry Callier,
Desert Stars,
The Fire Engines,
Mission of Burma,
In Retrospect,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Halsall,
Marine Girls,
T. Rex,
FM Einheit,
Mars,
The Martian,
Liliput,
Intrusion,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Fugs,
D'Angelo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sight & Sound,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Selecter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bill Near,
Oblivians,
Gerry Rafferty,
Charles Mingus,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Offenders,
MC5,
Q and Not U,
Dark Day,
Lucky Dragons,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Durutti Column,
Absolute Body Control,
Don Cherry,
Japan,
Nas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grauzone,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Grandmaster Flash,
Zero Boys,
L. Decosne,
Television Personalities,
Fatback Band,
Eden Ahbez,
Radiohead,
The Slackers,
Half Japanese,
Ultra Naté,
Blossom Toes,
Spoonie Gee,
Fear, Fear, Fear, Fear.
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.