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 Libya and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 The Busters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All The Gap Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
The Invisible,
Bootsy Collins,
Excepter,
Arthur Verocai,
The Cowsills,
Scratch Acid,
Graham Central Station,
Dead Boys,
Archie Shepp,
Brand Nubian,
MDC,
Minutemen,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Crash Course in Science,
Panda Bear,
ABBA,
Laurel Aitken,
Gil Scott Heron,
Hasil Adkins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Martian,
Vladislav Delay,
Echospace,
Radio Birdman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Durutti Column,
Public Enemy,
Bush Tetras,
8 Eyed Spy,
Von Mondo,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Swell Maps,
Ponytail,
Lower 48,
Buzzcocks,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
F. McDonald,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Human League,
Supertramp,
New York Dolls,
Spandau Ballet,
T.S.O.L.,
Prince Buster,
Negative Approach,
X-102,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jacob Miller,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Intrusion,
Faraquet,
Ultra Naté,
Reagan Youth,
The Vogues,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Porter Ricks,
Kerri Chandler,
Agent Orange,
Pere Ubu,
The Fire Engines,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.