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 Iraq and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marmalade to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Carl Craig record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Black Bananas,
Aloha Tigers,
Barrington Levy,
The Last Poets,
The Red Krayola,
Unwound,
The Pretty Things,
Eve St. Jones,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Slackers,
L. Decosne,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Arcadia,
Easy Going,
Fat Boys,
The Happenings,
The Residents,
The Standells,
The Index,
The Saints,
EPMD,
These Immortal Souls,
Colin Newman,
The Doobie Brothers,
Second Layer,
Nirvana,
The Smoke,
Beasts of Bourbon,
cv313,
Soulsonic Force,
Pet Shop Boys,
Cheater Slicks,
Inner City,
Graham Central Station,
Terry Callier,
The Moody Blues,
Pierre Henry,
The Grass Roots,
Deadbeat,
T.S.O.L.,
Fatback Band,
Man Parrish,
The Music Machine,
The Gap Band,
Grey Daturas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cameo,
Ten City,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Model 500,
Ultravox,
Danielle Patucci,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Neon Judgement,
Deepchord,
Subhumans,
The Real Kids,
John Holt,
The Martian, The Martian, The Martian, The Martian.
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.