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 Georgia and from Stockholm.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Manila.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Funkadelic 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gong 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-101,
Suburban Knight,
Neu!,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kenny Larkin,
Jandek,
The Knickerbockers,
Section 25,
Jacob Miller,
Ohio Players,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Grass Roots,
Drexciya,
Mars,
L. Decosne,
Fear,
Stiv Bators,
The American Breed,
Excepter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lungfish,
Model 500,
Procol Harum,
Barry Ungar,
E-Dancer,
Panda Bear,
The Toasters,
Motorama,
The Pop Group,
The Techniques,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Fatback Band,
The Buckinghams,
Japan,
Derrick May,
The Fortunes,
Roxy Music,
Terrestrial Tones,
Clear Light,
Judy Mowatt,
Aaron Thompson,
Girls At Our Best!,
Joe Finger,
Surgeon,
The Raincoats,
T. Rex,
Pantytec,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Juan Atkins,
Danielle Patucci,
Alton Ellis,
Duran Duran,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Darondo,
Ludus,
kango's stein massive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Curtis Mayfield,
Television,
The Mummies,
Eli Mardock,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.