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 Moldova and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
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 Lou Reed 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 John Lydon to the dance 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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minutemen,
The Invisible,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Sherman,
This Heat,
The American Breed,
Gastr Del Sol,
Rapeman,
The Velvet Underground,
cv313,
Jimmy McGriff,
Deakin,
Tommy Roe,
Yaz,
Pierre Henry,
Thompson Twins,
Sex Pistols,
Lou Christie,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pagans,
The Index,
Lungfish,
The Fugs,
Bootsy Collins,
Sunsets and Hearts,
MC5,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bad Manners,
Suicide,
Crispy Ambulance,
The New Christs,
Black Bananas,
Eric Copeland,
Dead Boys,
Skriet,
Eurythmics,
Rites of Spring,
Erykah Badu,
Scott Walker,
Moebius,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Five Americans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yazoo,
Lakeside,
Deadbeat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joyce Sims,
Scratch Acid,
Fluxion,
Audionom,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Simply Red,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.