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 Thailand and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kevin Saunderson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Age Steppers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Can,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
B.T. Express,
Moss Icon,
The Names,
Visage,
Joe Finger,
Model 500,
The Monochrome Set,
Skarface,
Scrapy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Leaves,
Ludus,
The Move,
Flipper,
Pylon,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Janne Schatter,
Pulsallama,
Joensuu 1685,
Pussy Galore,
The Fire Engines,
10cc,
Au Pairs,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eve St. Jones,
Deepchord,
Cecil Taylor,
The Fugs,
Radio Birdman,
Ituana,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sarah Menescal,
Blake Baxter,
Flamin' Groovies,
June of 44,
Bauhaus,
Anakelly,
Babytalk,
Rites of Spring,
Darondo,
Saccharine Trust,
The Electric Prunes,
Cameo,
X-Ray Spex,
Eurythmics,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Offenders,
Smog,
Warsaw,
Archie Shepp,
Los Fastidios,
T.S.O.L.,
Eden Ahbez,
The Last Poets,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.