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 Guinea-Bissau and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare 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 The Happenings to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Janne Schatter,
Lightning Bolt,
The Searchers,
Smog,
Royal Trux,
Das Ding,
John Lydon,
Circle Jerks,
Radio Birdman,
Au Pairs,
JFA,
Sarah Menescal,
Schoolly D,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cramps,
Freddie Wadling,
Don Cherry,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mark Hollis,
The Human League,
The Mojo Men,
Easy Going,
The Detroit Cobras,
Angry Samoans,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Faraquet,
Andrew Hill,
Yazoo,
Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
Liliput,
Altered Images,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rufus Thomas,
The Wake,
The Black Dice,
Black Sheep,
The Invisible,
Moss Icon,
Whodini,
Aaron Thompson,
Vladislav Delay,
Ornette Coleman,
T. Rex,
Icehouse,
The Selecter,
Cymande,
Shuggie Otis,
The Neon Judgement,
Pharoah Sanders,
Maleditus Sound,
Nik Kershaw,
Sonic Youth,
Oblivians,
Hot Snakes,
The Grass Roots,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.