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 South Africa and from Mexico City.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eyeless In Gaza to the crunk 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Country Teasers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June of 44,
The Blues Magoos,
Mo-Dettes,
Wings,
Black Moon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
MC5,
D'Angelo,
Tubeway Army,
The Move,
The Count Five,
Blake Baxter,
Gichy Dan,
X-101,
ABBA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Siglo XX,
The Slackers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Happenings,
Rapeman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Trumans Water,
X-102,
The Smiths,
Inner City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Iggy Pop,
Lower 48,
Minor Threat,
John Cale,
Essential Logic,
Davy DMX,
Chris Corsano,
Country Teasers,
The Associates,
Eve St. Jones,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Modern Lovers,
Crooked Eye,
Public Enemy,
Frankie Knuckles,
Dark Day,
The Invisible,
The Selecter,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Byrd,
OOIOO,
Albert Ayler,
Kayak,
Severed Heads,
Grauzone,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q65,
Aural Exciters,
the Bar-Kays,
Crash Course in Science,
The J.B.'s,
Magazine,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.