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 Kazakhstan and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bologna.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Graham Central Station to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Bowie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Smog,
LL Cool J,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scientists,
These Immortal Souls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Moleskins,
Au Pairs,
Al Stewart,
Erasure,
K-Klass,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eve St. Jones,
DJ Style,
Gabor Szabo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tears for Fears,
AZ,
John Cale,
Blake Baxter,
The Slackers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grey Daturas,
Terry Callier,
The Gap Band,
Aswad,
Slick Rick,
Judy Mowatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-102,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minny Pops,
Can,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Sonics,
Jacques Brel,
Chris & Cosey,
The Shadows of Knight,
Duran Duran,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gong,
Sun City Girls,
Laurel Aitken,
Archie Shepp,
Agent Orange,
Joensuu 1685,
Alphaville,
The Music Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bobby Womack,
Johnny Clarke,
48th St. Collective,
Ultravox,
Radio Birdman,
the Bar-Kays,
Pagans, Pagans, Pagans, Pagans.
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.