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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the rock 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Second Layer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Barracudas,
Soul Sonic Force,
Kenny Larkin,
Loose Ends,
Chris Corsano,
Brass Construction,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lower 48,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Slick Rick,
Brand Nubian,
Soft Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
UT,
Das Ding,
The Sound,
The Neon Judgement,
Swans,
Youth Brigade,
Quantec,
Wire,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gichy Dan,
The Black Dice,
AZ,
Parry Music,
Roxette,
Andrew Hill,
Henry Cow,
Sam Rivers,
Bill Near,
Dual Sessions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Matthew Halsall,
Saccharine Trust,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joy Division,
Masters at Work,
The Index,
The Searchers,
Faraquet,
The Real Kids,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Trumans Water,
Marc Almond,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Lucky Dragons,
Yaz,
The Blackbyrds,
Gang of Four,
The Star Department,
Bobby Sherman,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
Adolescents,
Pere Ubu,
Blancmange,
The Gladiators,
Radio Birdman,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.