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 Algeria and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pussy Galore to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Rhythim Is Rhythim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Lou Reed,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Wake,
John Cale,
B.T. Express,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sarah Menescal,
Anakelly,
Moby Grape,
Anthony Braxton,
Theoretical Girls,
Bauhaus,
Jacques Brel,
Brothers Johnson,
Marvin Gaye,
The Divine Comedy,
Hot Snakes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lindisfarne,
The Remains,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kool Moe Dee,
kango's stein massive,
cv313,
The Raincoats,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Motions,
Henry Cow,
Gabor Szabo,
T. Rex,
Groovy Waters,
Ohio Players,
Bang On A Can,
Gichy Dan,
The Count Five,
The Leaves,
Radio Birdman,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Prince Buster,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cecil Taylor,
Massinfluence,
CMW,
DNA,
Alison Limerick,
Zero Boys,
David McCallum,
The Victims,
Stetsasonic,
Rites of Spring,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lee Hazlewood,
In Retrospect,
Deadbeat,
Popol Vuh,
Michelle Simonal,
Amazonics,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hardrive,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.