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 Kuwait and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 mellotron 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 DJ Sneak to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Accadde A,
Kurtis Blow,
F. McDonald,
Sexual Harrassment,
Newcleus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Moby Grape,
Sister Nancy,
Metal Thangz,
Todd Rundgren,
The Evens,
The Fugs,
Mr. Review,
Oblivians,
The Electric Prunes,
The Kinks,
Sun City Girls,
The Pop Group,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Litter,
8 Eyed Spy,
Quadrant,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pierre Henry,
Kerri Chandler,
KRS-One,
Index,
The Last Poets,
Toni Rubio,
The Real Kids,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sällskapet,
DNA,
The Gories,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gladiators,
The Selecter,
Alton Ellis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Piero Umiliani,
Max Romeo,
The Beau Brummels,
Swans,
Sound Behaviour,
Crooked Eye,
Rufus Thomas,
Groovy Waters,
X-102,
the Germs,
Inner City,
Girls At Our Best!,
Cecil Taylor,
The Associates,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Idris Muhammad,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Freddie Wadling,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.