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 Lithuania and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Grass Roots to the techno 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 The Chocolate Watch Band. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heavy D & The Boyz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Harry Pussy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lightning Bolt,
Kas Product,
Ken Boothe,
The Index,
Parry Music,
Basic Channel,
New Order,
Blancmange,
Brothers Johnson,
Motorama,
Terry Callier,
Sällskapet,
June of 44,
Fear,
Hoover,
Cecil Taylor,
Bauhaus,
Slave,
Juan Atkins,
Bronski Beat,
Kurtis Blow,
Hot Snakes,
Arab on Radar,
Minor Threat,
Visage,
Jacob Miller,
Stiv Bators,
Clear Light,
Agent Orange,
Grauzone,
The Names,
Index,
X-102,
Dorothy Ashby,
DJ Style,
John Lydon,
KRS-One,
Accadde A,
Section 25,
Max Romeo,
Boredoms,
Kenny Larkin,
Unrelated Segments,
The Human League,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
David McCallum,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Skarface,
Slick Rick,
Joy Division,
Sandy B,
The Smoke,
Dennis Brown,
The Move,
Buzzcocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Black Moon,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.