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 Korea North and from Bologna.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minutemen to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Moody Blues,
Gastr Del Sol,
In Retrospect,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scientists,
The Human League,
Black Sheep,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Hood,
Aswad,
X-102,
Sam Rivers,
Malaria!,
Deepchord,
Rakim,
Chris Corsano,
Harry Pussy,
Derrick Morgan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Derrick May,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blues Magoos,
Accadde A,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minutemen,
Intrusion,
Bill Wells,
Simply Red,
Zapp,
The Young Rascals,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eric Copeland,
Joensuu 1685,
Leonard Cohen,
Connie Case,
Laurel Aitken,
Parry Music,
Blake Baxter,
a-ha,
Davy DMX,
Lou Reed,
Ultra Naté,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Seeds,
Carl Craig,
The Martian,
The Wake,
Wire,
Arcadia,
Aural Exciters,
Marine Girls,
Flash Fearless,
Pussy Galore,
Porter Ricks,
MC5,
Banda Bassotti,
Gang Green,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.