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 Grenada and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Wings 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alice Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Aloha Tigers,
Barbara Tucker,
The New Christs,
B.T. Express,
Morten Harket,
Easy Going,
The Durutti Column,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Junior Murvin,
Chris Corsano,
The Selecter,
Minutemen,
Ultravox,
Magma,
In Retrospect,
the Swans,
Lyres,
Faraquet,
Grey Daturas,
Wire,
Stereo Dub,
Livin' Joy,
Unwound,
U.S. Maple,
The Buckinghams,
Lakeside,
John Holt,
Man Eating Sloth,
Joey Negro,
Sun Ra,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deadbeat,
Loose Ends,
The Skatalites,
Scion,
Young Marble Giants,
Flipper,
The Smiths,
Spandau Ballet,
Outsiders,
Jeru the Damaja,
Kaleidoscope,
Henry Cow,
Judy Mowatt,
Infiniti,
Alison Limerick,
Fat Boys,
David McCallum,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang Green,
Moss Icon,
Godley & Creme,
Newcleus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Scratch Acid,
Skaos,
Khruangbin,
Y Pants,
The Saints,
Shuggie Otis,
Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk, Talk Talk.
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.