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 Qatar and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 Jesper Dahlback to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Minor Threat,
Newcleus,
Harry Pussy,
E-Dancer,
Bobby Sherman,
The Monks,
the Association,
David McCallum,
Alison Limerick,
Television Personalities,
Can,
Gastr Del Sol,
Drexciya,
La Düsseldorf,
Flamin' Groovies,
Banda Bassotti,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gories,
The Names,
Faraquet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Warsaw,
David Axelrod,
Black Pus,
Boz Scaggs,
Donald Byrd,
Sexual Harrassment,
Faust,
Q and Not U,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
PIL,
Gichy Dan,
Juan Atkins,
Quadrant,
Absolute Body Control,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Tomorrow,
Grey Daturas,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Star Department,
D'Angelo,
Goldenarms,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Wasted Youth,
The Stooges,
L. Decosne,
Kaleidoscope,
The Red Krayola,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ossler,
Niagra,
Zero Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Ice-T,
Roy Ayers,
The Leaves,
Nation of Ulysses,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.