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 Ukraine and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 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 Eric Dolphy to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Seeds. All the underground hits.
All Sällskapet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
K-Klass,
New York Dolls,
Carl Craig,
Harry Pussy,
Jerry's Kids,
Wire,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Donald Byrd,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Guru Guru,
Audionom,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Litter,
Fat Boys,
Livin' Joy,
The Slits,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Iggy Pop,
Interpol,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Chris Corsano,
Bluetip,
Black Moon,
The Cowsills,
Depeche Mode,
Swans,
Ossler,
Index,
Steve Hackett,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kerri Chandler,
Crispian St. Peters,
Don Cherry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Walker Brothers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Rakim,
Cameo,
Technova,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fortunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Half Japanese,
Trumans Water,
Urselle,
Brothers Johnson,
Stockholm Monsters,
B.T. Express,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Robert Hood,
Nick Fraelich,
Moby Grape,
Monks,
Q and Not U,
Masters at Work,
Bauhaus,
Scan 7,
The Standells,
Pierre Henry,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.