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 Australia and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the jazz 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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Theoretical Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ten City,
The Durutti Column,
the Germs,
U.S. Maple,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Man Eating Sloth,
Thee Headcoats,
The Wake,
Bang On A Can,
Glenn Branca,
Grandmaster Flash,
Eric Copeland,
Letta Mbulu,
Smog,
ABC,
Fela Kuti,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Golliwogs,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye,
The Slits,
Second Layer,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tomorrow,
Judy Mowatt,
Tubeway Army,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Isaac Hayes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Fugazi,
The Searchers,
Joe Finger,
Gang Starr,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Motorama,
Ultimate Spinach,
Al Stewart,
Liliput,
Arthur Verocai,
The Sonics,
The Vogues,
Audionom,
Dennis Brown,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Terry Callier,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Negative Approach,
Skriet,
Moby Grape,
Duran Duran,
Don Cherry,
AZ,
Lucky Dragons,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.