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 Haiti and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 CMW to the punk 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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Throbbing Gristle,
Judy Mowatt,
Albert Ayler,
Harpers Bizarre,
B.T. Express,
Slick Rick,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Sonics,
This Heat,
Malaria!,
James White and The Blacks,
Q and Not U,
Y Pants,
Terry Callier,
Alison Limerick,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
John Holt,
Quadrant,
The Sonics,
Tres Demented,
Godley & Creme,
Circle Jerks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Raincoats,
Mars,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Angels of Light,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Unwound,
Yellowson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Freddie Wadling,
Steve Hackett,
the Bar-Kays,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Shuggie Otis,
Nico,
Franke,
Rhythm & Sound,
Deakin,
Simply Red,
Amon Düül,
Au Pairs,
Livin' Joy,
Oneida,
The Toasters,
Ponytail,
Big Daddy Kane,
Motorama,
Sixth Finger,
Nils Olav,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Susan Cadogan,
The Last Poets,
Letta Mbulu,
Pagans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
James Chance & The Contortions,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.