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 Kenya and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
FM Einheit,
The Music Machine,
Brothers Johnson,
PIL,
Rufus Thomas,
Fear,
The Blues Magoos,
Los Fastidios,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mr. Review,
Urselle,
Rosa Yemen,
Second Layer,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Amon Düül,
Bill Near,
Wire,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Pretty Things,
The Dave Clark Five,
New York Dolls,
The Star Department,
Todd Rundgren,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Charles Mingus,
Electric Prunes,
Inner City,
Brass Construction,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sex Pistols,
Scrapy,
Ultravox,
Eden Ahbez,
ABC,
Thompson Twins,
Althea and Donna,
Altered Images,
The Doors,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
Suburban Knight,
Black Moon,
the Germs,
Yaz,
Marvin Gaye,
Eve St. Jones,
Slave,
Trumans Water,
Newcleus,
Gong,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Sound,
Reagan Youth,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.