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 Finland and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Associates to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DeepChord presents Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crispian St. Peters,
Blake Baxter,
The Young Rascals,
Terrestrial Tones,
Index,
The Beau Brummels,
Archie Shepp,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rufus Thomas,
DJ Style,
D'Angelo,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lungfish,
Donny Hathaway,
Brick,
Jawbox,
Reagan Youth,
OOIOO,
Goldenarms,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Jimmy McGriff,
Subhumans,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Henry Cow,
Big Daddy Kane,
Pantytec,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Happenings,
Hardrive,
Andrew Hill,
AZ,
Mo-Dettes,
Unwound,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Cowsills,
Frankie Knuckles,
Joensuu 1685,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Five Americans,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Moody Blues,
Q and Not U,
The Leaves,
Tim Buckley,
Neil Young,
Maurizio,
Deakin,
The Star Department,
Sixth Finger,
The Detroit Cobras,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Divine Comedy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grauzone,
Scion,
The Monochrome Set,
Marcia Griffiths,
Charles Mingus,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.