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 United Kingdom and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 Manchester and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 spring reverb 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 Saccharine Trust to the rap 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
Siglo XX,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Mummies,
Brick,
Suburban Knight,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Beau Brummels,
The Shadows of Knight,
Eric Copeland,
Al Stewart,
Minutemen,
Arab on Radar,
Cecil Taylor,
Radiohead,
The Human League,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Amon Düül,
New York Dolls,
Bang On A Can,
The Monks,
Harmonia,
Accadde A,
Moby Grape,
Johnny Clarke,
Sällskapet,
Roy Ayers,
Visage,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Last Poets,
Peter & Gordon,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deadbeat,
The Red Krayola,
Marvin Gaye,
Marmalade,
Leonard Cohen,
Todd Terry,
Slick Rick,
La Düsseldorf,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Dead C,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Cure,
Hoover,
Half Japanese,
48th St. Collective,
Pere Ubu,
LL Cool J,
The Vogues,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cheater Slicks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Sonics,
Alice Coltrane,
Rites of Spring,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ultra Naté,
10cc,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.