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 Slovakia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 B.T. Express to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tropical Tobacco,
Pussy Galore,
Chris Corsano,
The Smoke,
MC5,
Neil Young,
Technova,
Jacques Brel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Terry Callier,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Erasure,
The Five Americans,
Idris Muhammad,
the Slits,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Yaz,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Angry Samoans,
Jawbox,
Jesper Dahlback,
Maleditus Sound,
The Blues Magoos,
Throbbing Gristle,
Symarip,
ABC,
Bad Manners,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Last Poets,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arthur Verocai,
Rites of Spring,
Lucky Dragons,
The Happenings,
Todd Terry,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Blackbyrds,
Anthony Braxton,
Intrusion,
Barbara Tucker,
Goldenarms,
Desert Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Harry Pussy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Make Up,
Excepter,
Mr. Review,
Hardrive,
Lindisfarne,
The Beau Brummels,
MDC,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
X-102,
Gang of Four,
Sandy B,
John Coltrane,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.