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 Sudan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispy Ambulance to the rap 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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All Grauzone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Evens,
Quadrant,
Royal Trux,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fat Boys,
Circle Jerks,
Brick,
Supertramp,
the Bar-Kays,
Y Pants,
Gong,
Roger Hodgson,
Crispy Ambulance,
Henry Cow,
The Golliwogs,
Tubeway Army,
In Retrospect,
Flipper,
Rekid,
The Durutti Column,
Angry Samoans,
Carl Craig,
The Blackbyrds,
Icehouse,
The American Breed,
Jeff Mills,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Grass Roots,
Deadbeat,
Skaos,
Dead Boys,
Massinfluence,
Liliput,
Hashim,
The Leaves,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Qualms,
U.S. Maple,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fear,
Alton Ellis,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
FM Einheit,
Mark Hollis,
Youth Brigade,
The Happenings,
Juan Atkins,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kurtis Blow,
Mr. Review,
Television,
La Düsseldorf,
Iggy Pop,
Anthony Braxton,
A Certain Ratio,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Scion,
Neu!,
Pere Ubu,
Kenny Larkin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.