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 Syria and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All The Techniques tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Black Dice record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Second Layer,
The Seeds,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Livin' Joy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
K-Klass,
The Trojans,
Al Stewart,
X-Ray Spex,
Amazonics,
the Slits,
Don Cherry,
Derrick May,
cv313,
DJ Sneak,
Desert Stars,
Tres Demented,
Joe Smooth,
Warsaw,
The Velvet Underground,
A Certain Ratio,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Barracudas,
Iggy Pop,
Josef K,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mummies,
Terrestrial Tones,
Idris Muhammad,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Gang Dance,
Arab on Radar,
Skarface,
48th St. Collective,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Yazoo,
Lightning Bolt,
The Wake,
Gerry Rafferty,
Archie Shepp,
Glenn Branca,
Toni Rubio,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bootsy Collins,
Aaron Thompson,
Ronnie Foster,
Electric Prunes,
Negative Approach,
Cybotron,
Minor Threat,
Hot Snakes,
Junior Murvin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultravox,
Half Japanese,
The J.B.'s,
Shoche,
Basic Channel,
Brothers Johnson,
Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone, Grauzone.
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.