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 Djibouti and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 spring reverb 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 Flesh Eaters to the grime 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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Tubeway Army,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Velvet Underground,
the Sonics,
Pole,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neu!,
Barrington Levy,
This Heat,
Terry Callier,
Michelle Simonal,
Terrestrial Tones,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Soulsonic Force,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Janne Schatter,
Sex Pistols,
Reagan Youth,
Outsiders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dawn Penn,
The Modern Lovers,
Youth Brigade,
Joe Smooth,
The Fire Engines,
Nico,
48th St. Collective,
The Gladiators,
Loose Ends,
kango's stein massive,
The Mummies,
U.S. Maple,
Con Funk Shun,
Yazoo,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grandmaster Flash,
Gastr Del Sol,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Divine Comedy,
Amazonics,
John Coltrane,
Max Romeo,
Gichy Dan,
Unrelated Segments,
Pussy Galore,
Slick Rick,
The Motions,
Main Source,
Hashim,
Wolf Eyes,
Prince Buster,
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.