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 Hungary and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Traffic Nightmare to the rap 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Crime,
Camberwell Now,
the Soft Cell,
The Tremeloes,
Visage,
Black Moon,
Soulsonic Force,
Pierre Henry,
Q65,
Reagan Youth,
Camouflage,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sixth Finger,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lucky Dragons,
The Names,
Urselle,
The Velvet Underground,
Liliput,
Heaven 17,
Index,
The Sonics,
Barry Ungar,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Barracudas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bob Dylan,
Nick Fraelich,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Eric Dolphy,
The Moleskins,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Martian,
The Knickerbockers,
the Association,
Erasure,
Lightning Bolt,
Dennis Brown,
Curtis Mayfield,
Duran Duran,
Ken Boothe,
Symarip,
The Skatalites,
Slick Rick,
Unrelated Segments,
The Kinks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sällskapet,
The Move,
ABBA,
Leonard Cohen,
The Standells,
Popol Vuh,
Gang Green,
Toni Rubio,
Moebius,
Oblivians,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.