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 Belize and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Robert Hood to the rock 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 The United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Throbbing Gristle,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Suburban Knight,
the Sonics,
Yusef Lateef,
Man Parrish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lucky Dragons,
Rapeman,
Archie Shepp,
Johnny Clarke,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lou Christie,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siglo XX,
Parry Music,
Porter Ricks,
The Stooges,
Index,
Scratch Acid,
Hoover,
Ralphi Rosario,
Audionom,
X-102,
Kayak,
Negative Approach,
Fela Kuti,
Henry Cow,
Marmalade,
Theoretical Girls,
Fatback Band,
The Motions,
The Offenders,
Mo-Dettes,
Derrick May,
The Cowsills,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley,
Barry Ungar,
Johnny Osbourne,
Dave Gahan,
Rotary Connection,
Jeff Mills,
These Immortal Souls,
The Black Dice,
The Human League,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Talk Talk,
Peter and Kerry,
Cheater Slicks,
Harry Pussy,
Wings,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Camberwell Now,
Sonny Sharrock,
Circle Jerks,
Roxy Music,
Babytalk,
Mission of Burma,
The Tremeloes,
Basic Channel,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.