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 Ivory Coast and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Seoul.
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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Divine Comedy to the techno 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
The Fuzztones,
Bill Near,
Letta Mbulu,
The Velvet Underground,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scratch Acid,
Johnny Clarke,
Scrapy,
The Modern Lovers,
Pole,
Slick Rick,
Albert Ayler,
Porter Ricks,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Grass Roots,
Excepter,
Inner City,
Guru Guru,
The Mummies,
Bobby Womack,
Massinfluence,
Crime,
Circle Jerks,
the Bar-Kays,
Judy Mowatt,
Lakeside,
Niagra,
Interpol,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gun Club,
Lalo Schifrin,
Audionom,
Lucky Dragons,
Quadrant,
Flipper,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Con Funk Shun,
Warsaw,
Joyce Sims,
Fat Boys,
The Victims,
Howard Jones,
Rites of Spring,
Nas,
Archie Shepp,
Jandek,
Bang On A Can,
Soul II Soul,
Chris & Cosey,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Techniques,
Black Flag,
June of 44,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.