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 Senegal and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 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 Traffic Nightmare to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Black Sheep,
The Fugs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Fela Kuti,
Sonic Youth,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Neil Young,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Scrapy,
Janne Schatter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rites of Spring,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Icehouse,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Electric Prunes,
Deadbeat,
Excepter,
Wolf Eyes,
The Monochrome Set,
Quantec,
Mars,
The Slits,
Crooked Eye,
Bad Manners,
Gerry Rafferty,
Danielle Patucci,
Das Ding,
Scott Walker,
Severed Heads,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Moody Blues,
New York Dolls,
John Foxx,
World's Most,
FM Einheit,
Traffic Nightmare,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
E-Dancer,
Yaz,
The Slackers,
MC5,
Y Pants,
Black Pus,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Shadows of Knight,
Model 500,
R.M.O.,
Guru Guru,
Zero Boys,
the Swans,
Con Funk Shun,
The Names,
Jeff Lynne,
Darondo,
The Dead C,
Jacques Brel,
Anthony Braxton,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.