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 Lesotho and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 The Vogues to the dance 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 The Golliwogs. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Mandrill,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Harmonia,
The Five Americans,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ornette Coleman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Pylon,
Rapeman,
The Monks,
Warren Ellis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Prince Buster,
The Birthday Party,
The Happenings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Pretty Things,
Skriet,
Shuggie Otis,
Kaleidoscope,
Easy Going,
The Techniques,
Steve Hackett,
Pantaleimon,
Flipper,
The Leaves,
Bronski Beat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ossler,
Chrome,
Alice Coltrane,
Judy Mowatt,
New York Dolls,
The Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Young Marble Giants,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Barracudas,
Heaven 17,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
One Last Wish,
Dark Day,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
U.S. Maple,
Schoolly D,
H. Thieme,
Idris Muhammad,
Maurizio,
The Fugs,
The Sound,
Jawbox,
The Selecter,
The Star Department,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.