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 United Kingdom and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Yazoo to the punk 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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Public Enemy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Quadrant,
Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Suicide,
Letta Mbulu,
Das Ding,
Index,
Basic Channel,
The Blackbyrds,
The Last Poets,
The Slits,
The Alarm Clocks,
Harry Pussy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Todd Rundgren,
The Dirtbombs,
Subhumans,
Talk Talk,
Clear Light,
H. Thieme,
The Gories,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Al Stewart,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cluster,
Crispian St. Peters,
Circle Jerks,
Moebius,
Erykah Badu,
The Music Machine,
Slave,
The Detroit Cobras,
Silicon Teens,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Excepter,
Bobby Byrd,
LL Cool J,
The Leaves,
Blossom Toes,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Soft Cell,
Barrington Levy,
The J.B.'s,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Maurizio,
Terry Callier,
The Modern Lovers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Cure,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Shuggie Otis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Evens,
Bill Wells,
Japan,
Jacques Brel,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalann,
Scion,
Visage,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.