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 Malaysia and from Paris.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 David McCallum to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
The Angels of Light,
Wasted Youth,
The Victims,
Dead Boys,
Adolescents,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerri Chandler,
The Grass Roots,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lungfish,
The Pop Group,
Ossler,
Bobby Womack,
Marc Almond,
Ten City,
F. McDonald,
Das Ding,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Robert Hood,
Lindisfarne,
Scott Walker,
Accadde A,
Liliput,
Susan Cadogan,
John Coltrane,
The Associates,
Stiv Bators,
Arab on Radar,
The Seeds,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sonics,
the Normal,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slave,
Organ,
Amon Düül,
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
Eurythmics,
Althea and Donna,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fugs,
The Birthday Party,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric Copeland,
The Modern Lovers,
Absolute Body Control,
Connie Case,
JFA,
The Detroit Cobras,
Panda Bear,
Donald Byrd,
Mr. Review,
Lucky Dragons,
KRS-One,
Parry Music,
Wings,
LL Cool J,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.