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 Dominican Republic and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 sitar 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Bob Dylan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Anakelly,
Interpol,
Accadde A,
Nas,
The United States of America,
Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
F. McDonald,
The Fire Engines,
Pole,
Soulsonic Force,
Bauhaus,
Henry Cow,
Procol Harum,
Black Moon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rites of Spring,
Andrew Hill,
JFA,
Harry Pussy,
World's Most,
Pulsallama,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Prince Buster,
Schoolly D,
Ludus,
Lou Reed,
Chris Corsano,
Minnie Riperton,
The Black Dice,
The Doobie Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Cramps,
Davy DMX,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kurtis Blow,
The Motions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nirvana,
Tomorrow,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joe Smooth,
Jawbox,
The Toasters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Deepchord,
Erasure,
Inner City,
Darondo,
Gerry Rafferty,
Scientists,
Sound Behaviour,
Jacques Brel,
Duran Duran,
Trumans Water,
Smog,
Flipper,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine, Major Organ And The Adding Machine.
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.