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 Australia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Maleditus Sound to the rap 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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All Terrestrial Tones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Buzzcocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Robert Wyatt,
Fear,
Isaac Hayes,
Duran Duran,
Ice-T,
Trumans Water,
Funkadelic,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Raincoats,
Glambeats Corp.,
Circle Jerks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Fat Boys,
Symarip,
MDC,
Terry Callier,
Piero Umiliani,
Roxette,
Hasil Adkins,
Fela Kuti,
David McCallum,
Alice Coltrane,
Faraquet,
Soft Cell,
Ronan,
Swans,
Aural Exciters,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed,
Eli Mardock,
Lakeside,
Patti Smith,
Lou Christie,
Neu!,
Neil Young,
T.S.O.L.,
Bob Dylan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bush Tetras,
the Bar-Kays,
Easy Going,
The Sonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Toni Rubio,
The Seeds,
Tres Demented,
Cheater Slicks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wally Richardson,
Young Marble Giants,
Sight & Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Negative Approach,
Boogie Down Productions,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Pus,
DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak, DJ Sneak.
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.