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 Equatorial Guinea and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Durutti Column to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Prince Buster,
Cabaret Voltaire,
June of 44,
Moss Icon,
the Swans,
Jeru the Damaja,
Q65,
Al Stewart,
The Cowsills,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Magma,
Lou Christie,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Aloha Tigers,
Ohio Players,
Max Romeo,
KRS-One,
Babytalk,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Blackbyrds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
T. Rex,
Rekid,
Supertramp,
Eddi Front,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lindisfarne,
D'Angelo,
Junior Murvin,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fela Kuti,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dual Sessions,
The Golliwogs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kayak,
Crooked Eye,
Sugar Minott,
Erykah Badu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Reagan Youth,
DJ Style,
La Düsseldorf,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mark Hollis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jacques Brel,
PIL,
Derrick May,
The Gories,
Camberwell Now,
Schoolly D,
Newcleus,
Reuben Wilson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vladislav Delay,
Urselle,
Alphaville,
Scion,
Stetsasonic,
Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes, Isaac Hayes.
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.