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 Switzerland and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lungfish 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terrestrial Tones,
Danielle Patucci,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Moby Grape,
Brick,
The Durutti Column,
The Monochrome Set,
Barrington Levy,
Eric Dolphy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Juan Atkins,
Minor Threat,
Throbbing Gristle,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Gang Green,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Qualms,
The Barracudas,
Hoover,
The Detroit Cobras,
Quadrant,
Kenny Larkin,
Talk Talk,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Happenings,
Black Bananas,
The Blues Magoos,
The Birthday Party,
Joy Division,
Bill Wells,
Porter Ricks,
Harmonia,
Patti Smith,
Nirvana,
Todd Terry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Amon Düül II,
Yusef Lateef,
Jandek,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Seeds,
Brass Construction,
One Last Wish,
Gong,
Dennis Brown,
Shoche,
MDC,
cv313,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Motions,
June Days,
Cameo,
Moebius,
The Associates,
Tubeway Army,
Darondo,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
the Normal,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.