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 New Zealand and from Lagos.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Crash Course in Science to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Archie Shepp. All the underground hits.
All The Cowsills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Black Sheep,
The Neon Judgement,
Eve St. Jones,
Boredoms,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lalann,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cowsills,
The Pretty Things,
Sixth Finger,
Minnie Riperton,
Banda Bassotti,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
New York Dolls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Flesh Eaters,
Youth Brigade,
Black Moon,
Swell Maps,
Terry Callier,
Hashim,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
Lyres,
The Fuzztones,
Maurizio,
Chrome,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Accadde A,
The Raincoats,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeru the Damaja,
Angry Samoans,
Michelle Simonal,
Peter and Kerry,
Echospace,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fortunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crispy Ambulance,
ABC,
Gerry Rafferty,
Make Up,
Todd Terry,
The Fugs,
Blossom Toes,
Heaven 17,
The Gories,
Peter & Gordon,
Lower 48,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Kerrie Biddell,
Crash Course in Science,
Symarip,
Bad Manners,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.