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 Romania and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Mr. Review to the grunge 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains 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 a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Oblivians,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Slackers,
Nas,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roxette,
Deakin,
Technova,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Rites of Spring,
The Gladiators,
Peter & Gordon,
Ornette Coleman,
The Buckinghams,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Skaos,
Pharoah Sanders,
Swans,
David Bowie,
Brothers Johnson,
Desert Stars,
Rapeman,
Echospace,
Gang Green,
Sixth Finger,
Graham Central Station,
Max Romeo,
Judy Mowatt,
Warsaw,
CMW,
Hasil Adkins,
the Sonics,
Monolake,
Can,
Bobby Byrd,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wally Richardson,
Flipper,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Michelle Simonal,
Gerry Rafferty,
Saccharine Trust,
Juan Atkins,
The Angels of Light,
The Invisible,
Y Pants,
Fela Kuti,
The Smiths,
The Happenings,
Mantronix,
Cheater Slicks,
In Retrospect,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minny Pops,
Rufus Thomas,
Sam Rivers,
Mars,
Animal Collective,
Drive Like Jehu,
Susan Cadogan,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Rundgren,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.