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 Congo and from Paris.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 MDC to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All The Red Krayola tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cheater Slicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Clarke,
Bill Wells,
Motorama,
cv313,
Thee Headcoats,
The Star Department,
Hot Snakes,
Liliput,
PIL,
Wasted Youth,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Beau Brummels,
Eric Dolphy,
Procol Harum,
Ponytail,
The Gap Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Scion,
The Mojo Men,
Television,
Livin' Joy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Bang On A Can,
John Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Hasil Adkins,
Moss Icon,
Prince Buster,
The Fortunes,
Hoover,
Girls At Our Best!,
New Age Steppers,
Letta Mbulu,
Jandek,
Cameo,
Inner City,
Ituana,
The Move,
Circle Jerks,
CMW,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fluxion,
Youth Brigade,
Delta 5,
DJ Sneak,
Urselle,
Eli Mardock,
Tropical Tobacco,
Suicide,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Fraelich,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Leaves,
Scan 7,
Adolescents,
Davy DMX,
Marmalade,
Gabor Szabo,
The Last Poets,
The Pretty Things,
Derrick May,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.