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 Czech Republic and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 808 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 Arthur Verocai to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sound Behaviour 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tim Buckley,
Crispy Ambulance,
Main Source,
D'Angelo,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deepchord,
Barry Ungar,
The Standells,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Buzzcocks,
Joe Finger,
Kool Moe Dee,
Godley & Creme,
Tommy Roe,
Toni Rubio,
The Toasters,
Lebanon Hanover,
Outsiders,
Mission of Burma,
The Red Krayola,
Barbara Tucker,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Count Five,
New Age Steppers,
Brand Nubian,
Basic Channel,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Graham Central Station,
T.S.O.L.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
John Lydon,
Darondo,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mummies,
The Smoke,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Loose Ends,
The New Christs,
The Neon Judgement,
Mr. Review,
The Residents,
the Bar-Kays,
Little Man,
Monks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Soul Sonic Force,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The United States of America,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Skatalites,
The Moody Blues,
Erykah Badu,
ABC,
the Association,
Pantaleimon,
Sam Rivers,
Procol Harum,
Zero Boys,
David McCallum,
Reagan Youth,
The Tremeloes,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.