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 Morocco and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Thee Headcoats to the punk 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Vogues,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Dark Day,
Ken Boothe,
Johnny Clarke,
Big Daddy Kane,
Soul II Soul,
Black Flag,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Little Man,
Lalo Schifrin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Man Eating Sloth,
Young Marble Giants,
Cymande,
Moby Grape,
Massinfluence,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Warsaw,
Dead Boys,
Rod Modell,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
Quando Quango,
Black Pus,
Rapeman,
Interpol,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Prince Buster,
Organ,
Electric Prunes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jandek,
Blake Baxter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Kinks,
Fugazi,
Bill Near,
Harpers Bizarre,
China Crisis,
Rites of Spring,
The Black Dice,
Althea and Donna,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Faraquet,
Scott Walker,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bauhaus,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deakin,
T. Rex,
Tommy Roe,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter and Kerry,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.