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 Nepal and from Beijing.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Standells to the funk 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Rotary Connection,
Grauzone,
The Toasters,
John Coltrane,
Maleditus Sound,
Man Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rufus Thomas,
Rapeman,
Symarip,
Marine Girls,
Brass Construction,
Faust,
Cameo,
Severed Heads,
The Slackers,
Aswad,
the Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Make Up,
Stiv Bators,
Delta 5,
Susan Cadogan,
Surgeon,
Clear Light,
Pagans,
Kenny Larkin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tropical Tobacco,
Soul II Soul,
Sparks,
The Index,
Guru Guru,
The Happenings,
Outsiders,
Duran Duran,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Infiniti,
48th St. Collective,
Andrew Hill,
R.M.O.,
Sugar Minott,
The Wake,
Yaz,
F. McDonald,
the Slits,
Interpol,
Magma,
Echospace,
Accadde A,
X-101,
Godley & Creme,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sixth Finger,
New York Dolls,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Newcleus,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.