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 Marshall Islands and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Marvin Gaye to the disco 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sound Behaviour,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sällskapet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sugar Minott,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Minny Pops,
Can,
cv313,
The Red Krayola,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jacques Brel,
Laurel Aitken,
Alphaville,
Faraquet,
Crime,
Eddi Front,
Nick Fraelich,
Thee Headcoats,
Rosa Yemen,
Althea and Donna,
The Knickerbockers,
La Düsseldorf,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scratch Acid,
Ossler,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slits,
Robert Görl,
Royal Trux,
Peter and Kerry,
Yellowson,
Joe Smooth,
The American Breed,
Bootsy Collins,
A Certain Ratio,
Angry Samoans,
James White and The Blacks,
Godley & Creme,
the Association,
The Toasters,
The Index,
Clear Light,
The Fuzztones,
DNA,
Joensuu 1685,
In Retrospect,
Ultravox,
Deakin,
The Detroit Cobras,
Arthur Verocai,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Blake Baxter,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Scott Walker,
Peter & Gordon,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.