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 Cape Verde and from Manchester.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rhythm & Sound to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aural Exciters. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Hutcherson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Lou Reed,
Aural Exciters,
Harry Pussy,
The Gladiators,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Minny Pops,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry's Kids,
The Happenings,
Donny Hathaway,
John Foxx,
R.M.O.,
Public Image Ltd.,
Guru Guru,
Rhythm & Sound,
Faraquet,
The Toasters,
Saccharine Trust,
Warsaw,
Ohio Players,
Section 25,
This Heat,
The Stooges,
The Dirtbombs,
Ponytail,
Connie Case,
Scientists,
Negative Approach,
B.T. Express,
Brick,
Lungfish,
Dennis Brown,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Style,
Sister Nancy,
John Holt,
Godley & Creme,
Man Eating Sloth,
Suburban Knight,
The Durutti Column,
Mad Mike,
Cecil Taylor,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Brothers Johnson,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Buckinghams,
Gabor Szabo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Wings,
Pussy Galore,
Loose Ends,
The New Christs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Move,
Tim Buckley,
Yusef Lateef,
Janne Schatter,
Nik Kershaw,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.