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 Solomon Islands and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Avey Tare to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Dorothy Ashby tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jacques Brel,
Hoover,
These Immortal Souls,
Minny Pops,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aural Exciters,
The Evens,
X-Ray Spex,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masters at Work,
Arcadia,
Dual Sessions,
Robert Hood,
Audionom,
Pantaleimon,
Heaven 17,
Jandek,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Main Source,
Johnny Clarke,
Albert Ayler,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Residents,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Cosmic Jokers,
F. McDonald,
The Fortunes,
Jeff Mills,
Cameo,
The Tremeloes,
Scientists,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Anakelly,
Lalann,
The Cowsills,
The Zeros,
Metal Thangz,
Electric Prunes,
Smog,
June of 44,
Max Romeo,
Yellowson,
Harmonia,
Tommy Roe,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Malaria!,
The Victims,
Scott Walker,
Kenny Larkin,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Busters,
Eric Copeland,
FM Einheit,
Matthew Bourne,
This Heat,
Todd Rundgren,
Sarah Menescal,
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.