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 Guinea and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 Neu! 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 Peter and Kerry. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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?
Man Eating Sloth,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nas,
Electric Prunes,
Jimmy McGriff,
DJ Style,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Slits,
Todd Terry,
The Dead C,
Janne Schatter,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Monks,
L. Decosne,
Andrew Hill,
Jandek,
Anthony Braxton,
Kaleidoscope,
Procol Harum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sister Nancy,
This Heat,
Trumans Water,
The Fortunes,
Organ,
The Index,
Danielle Patucci,
Ronan,
Young Marble Giants,
Bush Tetras,
Tommy Roe,
Mandrill,
Mars,
Slave,
Lebanon Hanover,
Reuben Wilson,
Sonic Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Arcadia,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jawbox,
Byron Stingily,
Ronnie Foster,
a-ha,
Jeff Mills,
Boredoms,
Ituana,
James White and The Blacks,
Marvin Gaye,
Circle Jerks,
The Young Rascals,
T. Rex,
The Litter,
Yaz,
Black Pus,
Bill Near,
The Selecter,
Girls At Our Best!,
Junior Murvin,
The Alarm Clocks,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.