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 Georgia and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum 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 Kas Product to the punk 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arcadia,
Motorama,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Davy DMX,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Flamin' Groovies,
Godley & Creme,
Man Parrish,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wally Richardson,
Ultra Naté,
The Walker Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quantec,
Porter Ricks,
Moss Icon,
Excepter,
Danielle Patucci,
Monolake,
Goldenarms,
Soulsonic Force,
Rekid,
Malaria!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Residents,
Crooked Eye,
The Saints,
Robert Görl,
Barbara Tucker,
Ice-T,
Skarface,
Lyres,
Q and Not U,
Bob Dylan,
This Heat,
The Toasters,
The Neon Judgement,
AZ,
Blake Baxter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
A Certain Ratio,
Scott Walker,
Johnny Clarke,
Masters at Work,
Pulsallama,
Audionom,
Kurtis Blow,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sandy B,
Terry Callier,
Hot Snakes,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bill Wells,
Magazine,
Barry Ungar,
Grey Daturas,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.