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 Hungary and from Portland.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 The Pop Group to the grunge 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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Henry Cow,
Lakeside,
Symarip,
Robert Hood,
Absolute Body Control,
Agitation Free,
Banda Bassotti,
Negative Approach,
Mark Hollis,
Jacques Brel,
Nico,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Swell Maps,
Toni Rubio,
E-Dancer,
Idris Muhammad,
Patti Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rufus Thomas,
B.T. Express,
This Heat,
David Axelrod,
Slick Rick,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ludus,
Spandau Ballet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Depeche Mode,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Bobby Womack,
The Slits,
Simply Red,
The Gun Club,
KRS-One,
June of 44,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Foxx,
Hoover,
Inner City,
Arcadia,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crooked Eye,
Junior Murvin,
Radio Birdman,
Qualms,
Trumans Water,
DJ Sneak,
Intrusion,
R.M.O.,
Erasure,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sex Pistols,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mary Jane Girls,
Mad Mike,
The Cramps,
Cybotron,
The New Christs,
Brothers Johnson,
Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas, Black Bananas.
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.