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 Cyprus and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ronnie Foster to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
CMW,
X-101,
Freddie Wadling,
Susan Cadogan,
Mission of Burma,
Carl Craig,
Barry Ungar,
Moby Grape,
Television Personalities,
Country Teasers,
Steve Hackett,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Qualms,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Panda Bear,
Morten Harket,
Icehouse,
Reagan Youth,
Dawn Penn,
Boredoms,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
T. Rex,
The Residents,
Pere Ubu,
Shuggie Otis,
Robert Hood,
New Age Steppers,
Surgeon,
Slick Rick,
Vladislav Delay,
Arthur Verocai,
The Move,
The Saints,
Sam Rivers,
Sonic Youth,
Soft Machine,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Adolescents,
Siglo XX,
Gerry Rafferty,
Todd Terry,
Lou Christie,
Half Japanese,
B.T. Express,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aaron Thompson,
The Divine Comedy,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang Starr,
Sun City Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Quadrant,
Animal Collective,
The Gun Club,
Electric Prunes,
MC5,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.