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 Afghanistan and from Manila.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 organ 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 Pulsallama to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar 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 oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Black Bananas,
Brick,
Magma,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gerry Rafferty,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Tropical Tobacco,
Max Romeo,
Unrelated Segments,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Mad Mike,
Easy Going,
OOIOO,
Audionom,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerri Chandler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lyres,
The Fall,
Flipper,
Ossler,
Oblivians,
The Happenings,
Eddi Front,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Main Source,
Gastr Del Sol,
Masters at Work,
Massinfluence,
Gil Scott Heron,
Roxette,
Hasil Adkins,
Glenn Branca,
Kool Moe Dee,
Parry Music,
Nico,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Womack,
LL Cool J,
Shuggie Otis,
Terry Callier,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Man Eating Sloth,
Peter and Kerry,
Crash Course in Science,
Stiv Bators,
the Germs,
Niagra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bronski Beat,
Sound Behaviour,
Skarface,
Angry Samoans,
The Star Department,
Bootsy Collins,
Barbara Tucker,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Image Ltd.,
cv313,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.