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 Luxembourg and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord 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 Model 500 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
In Retrospect,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Busters,
Stetsasonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sugar Minott,
Kenny Larkin,
The Saints,
Gong,
Audionom,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brand Nubian,
Lightning Bolt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pantytec,
Mad Mike,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Görl,
Joe Smooth,
Chris Corsano,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dirtbombs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eli Mardock,
Arcadia,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Tomorrow,
the Association,
Oblivians,
Lalann,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Dark Day,
Peter and Kerry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bill Wells,
Country Teasers,
Sarah Menescal,
Cymande,
Maurizio,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Leonard Cohen,
One Last Wish,
Bad Manners,
The Slits,
Anakelly,
Jacob Miller,
Dave Gahan,
Kevin Saunderson,
Fugazi,
Jacques Brel,
Cameo,
the Bar-Kays,
Pylon,
Blossom Toes,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.