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 Egypt and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Qualms to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
In Retrospect,
Camouflage,
T.S.O.L.,
Letta Mbulu,
Tom Boy,
Reuben Wilson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Simply Red,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Flag,
Frankie Knuckles,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Delta 5,
Cecil Taylor,
Rod Modell,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Technova,
Silicon Teens,
Quadrant,
Visage,
The Saints,
The Black Dice,
D'Angelo,
Monolake,
The Smoke,
Jerry's Kids,
the Germs,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bob Dylan,
The Searchers,
Nick Fraelich,
The Fortunes,
Wings,
Wally Richardson,
Albert Ayler,
David Bowie,
Underground Resistance,
Porter Ricks,
Bluetip,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Sound,
8 Eyed Spy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Country Teasers,
Nils Olav,
Eve St. Jones,
One Last Wish,
Don Cherry,
Sällskapet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lou Reed,
Graham Central Station,
Anthony Braxton,
Throbbing Gristle,
Hasil Adkins,
Pulsallama,
Accadde A,
Roger Hodgson,
The Real Kids,
This Heat,
Scratch Acid,
the Slits,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.