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 Bahrain and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Easy Going to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Los Fastidios,
Aswad,
Mandrill,
The Smiths,
Essential Logic,
Mr. Review,
Nirvana,
Charles Mingus,
Von Mondo,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Gories,
the Sonics,
Symarip,
Sight & Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Television Personalities,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Yellowson,
Country Teasers,
Masters at Work,
Kaleidoscope,
Spandau Ballet,
Pantytec,
New Order,
Yusef Lateef,
The Blackbyrds,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Half Japanese,
Don Cherry,
Althea and Donna,
Jerry's Kids,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Easy Going,
Patti Smith,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Carl Craig,
Heaven 17,
Eve St. Jones,
The Seeds,
Banda Bassotti,
Tubeway Army,
Donny Hathaway,
Depeche Mode,
Soul II Soul,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sixth Finger,
Television,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Blancmange,
The Moleskins,
Panda Bear,
Piero Umiliani,
X-Ray Spex,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eli Mardock,
Audionom,
Howard Jones,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bob Dylan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.