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 Mozambique and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Blake Baxter to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Accadde A tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Traffic Nightmare 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Charles Mingus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Severed Heads,
Henry Cow,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Pulsallama,
Cal Tjader,
Monks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cybotron,
Kurtis Blow,
Cymande,
Bizarre Inc.,
Alison Limerick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Don Cherry,
Little Man,
Byron Stingily,
Procol Harum,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Television Personalities,
Half Japanese,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rod Modell,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Motions,
Excepter,
Franke,
Delta 5,
Symarip,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Radio Birdman,
Angry Samoans,
The Searchers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
DNA,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Bar-Kays,
Ponytail,
Bauhaus,
Bootsy Collins,
Tommy Roe,
Traffic Nightmare,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Bananas,
Jacques Brel,
X-Ray Spex,
The Divine Comedy,
The Last Poets,
Thompson Twins,
Flamin' Groovies,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pantytec,
Surgeon,
Arcadia,
Wolf Eyes,
Harpers Bizarre,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.