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 Uganda and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet 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 Iggy Pop to the electroclash 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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Bill Near,
Fugazi,
The New Christs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Invisible,
Vainqueur,
Jacques Brel,
John Foxx,
The Evens,
Skaos,
Scott Walker,
Royal Trux,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Trojans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Barry Ungar,
Crispy Ambulance,
Pere Ubu,
Yaz,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Selecter,
Can,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mars,
Barbara Tucker,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ituana,
Section 25,
Index,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minnie Riperton,
Rhythm & Sound,
Mission of Burma,
Piero Umiliani,
Wings,
Robert Görl,
New Age Steppers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Freddie Wadling,
The Sound,
LL Cool J,
Black Pus,
Crime,
Lyres,
Gabor Szabo,
Yusef Lateef,
Funkadelic,
Magazine,
F. McDonald,
Camberwell Now,
Blancmange,
Fort Wilson Riot,
CMW,
Sugar Minott,
Joe Finger,
Harmonia,
Gang Green,
Lou Reed,
Sexual Harrassment,
Icehouse,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.