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 Paraguay and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 clarinet 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
Matthew Bourne,
Johnny Clarke,
Urselle,
Harpers Bizarre,
Magma,
The Zeros,
Pylon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Idris Muhammad,
Groovy Waters,
Minnie Riperton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tres Demented,
Ultravox,
James White and The Blacks,
Gerry Rafferty,
Angry Samoans,
Ken Boothe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Star Department,
Lou Reed,
Pantytec,
New Order,
The Dead C,
Delon & Dalcan,
EPMD,
Flash Fearless,
Wolf Eyes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mission of Burma,
Faust,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Depeche Mode,
Lindisfarne,
Sex Pistols,
Jawbox,
Byron Stingily,
Al Stewart,
Kas Product,
The Smiths,
Newcleus,
Yaz,
Moss Icon,
Ornette Coleman,
Flipper,
Minny Pops,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Fall,
The Leaves,
Audionom,
Supertramp,
Sugar Minott,
Half Japanese,
Robert Görl,
Public Image Ltd.,
Grey Daturas,
Mo-Dettes,
The Happenings,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.