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 Czech Republic and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Stereo Dub tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ronnie Foster,
Cameo,
Cybotron,
Yellowson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Hot Snakes,
Minny Pops,
John Cale,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacob Miller,
Nico,
Soft Machine,
Ituana,
Sexual Harrassment,
T. Rex,
Freddie Wadling,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cheater Slicks,
The Young Rascals,
Index,
Sonic Youth,
The Associates,
The Residents,
Althea and Donna,
Agitation Free,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Leaves,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Blake Baxter,
Bob Dylan,
Malaria!,
Popol Vuh,
La Düsseldorf,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Deakin,
The Monks,
Organ,
Reuben Wilson,
The Techniques,
Pere Ubu,
Nik Kershaw,
In Retrospect,
Minnie Riperton,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Germs,
Sarah Menescal,
the Bar-Kays,
Shoche,
The Mummies,
Yaz,
Sight & Sound,
Subhumans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minutemen,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.