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 Cameroon and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eve St. Jones to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sällskapet. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Thompson Twins,
Soul II Soul,
Aswad,
Stiv Bators,
The Pretty Things,
The Star Department,
Magma,
Eden Ahbez,
Wasted Youth,
Jawbox,
CMW,
Terry Callier,
Mantronix,
New York Dolls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Cale,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Dolphy,
Pierre Henry,
Duran Duran,
Sugar Minott,
The Happenings,
Arab on Radar,
X-102,
Man Parrish,
Model 500,
Flamin' Groovies,
Derrick Morgan,
Malaria!,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Peter and Kerry,
Groovy Waters,
Blake Baxter,
Niagra,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Prunes,
Rosa Yemen,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
10cc,
Tommy Roe,
Sun City Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Sarah Menescal,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
a-ha,
Alice Coltrane,
the Swans,
The Selecter,
Outsiders,
Gang Gang Dance,
Severed Heads,
Barrington Levy,
Scientists,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Sound,
Chris Corsano,
The Velvet Underground,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.