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 Mali and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Procol Harum to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lightning Bolt. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Jesus and Mary Chain record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Mo-Dettes,
The Cure,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Victims,
Chrome,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rotary Connection,
Blossom Toes,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Blake Baxter,
Vladislav Delay,
Whodini,
Joyce Sims,
Porter Ricks,
Kurtis Blow,
Crispy Ambulance,
AZ,
Fela Kuti,
Grandmaster Flash,
Hashim,
The Mojo Men,
Fluxion,
Guru Guru,
Visage,
The Dirtbombs,
the Normal,
MDC,
The Raincoats,
The Count Five,
the Association,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Procol Harum,
Barry Ungar,
Boz Scaggs,
The Seeds,
Oblivians,
Andrew Hill,
Jawbox,
Patti Smith,
Eddi Front,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Birthday Party,
Boogie Down Productions,
Alice Coltrane,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Matthew Bourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Wolf Eyes,
The Invisible,
Brand Nubian,
Man Eating Sloth,
Underground Resistance,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Easy Going,
Clear Light,
MC5,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Q and Not U,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.