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 Paraguay and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 UT to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Essential Logic,
Ultravox,
The Alarm Clocks,
Oneida,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mojo Men,
The New Christs,
The Remains,
Excepter,
Hot Snakes,
Jacques Brel,
The American Breed,
Black Pus,
Jandek,
Marmalade,
New Order,
The Buckinghams,
Soul Sonic Force,
Fatback Band,
KRS-One,
Josef K,
the Fania All-Stars,
FM Einheit,
Zero Boys,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Blossom Toes,
Nico,
Mars,
The Offenders,
Amazonics,
Nils Olav,
Bush Tetras,
Moby Grape,
Cecil Taylor,
Anakelly,
Brand Nubian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pere Ubu,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mantronix,
Isaac Hayes,
Marine Girls,
Newcleus,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Wire,
John Cale,
Fad Gadget,
Barrington Levy,
Colin Newman,
Tommy Roe,
Kurtis Blow,
Sun Ra,
Rosa Yemen,
Au Pairs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Soft Cell,
Technova,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.