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 Laos and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 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 Bauhaus to the techno 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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Gil Scott Heron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Dead C,
Buzzcocks,
Boredoms,
John Coltrane,
Lou Christie,
Monks,
Arcadia,
Davy DMX,
Second Layer,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minutemen,
X-Ray Spex,
Tears for Fears,
The Detroit Cobras,
Guru Guru,
Panda Bear,
John Foxx,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Index,
Warren Ellis,
Ohio Players,
Sound Behaviour,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grauzone,
a-ha,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Depeche Mode,
Young Marble Giants,
U.S. Maple,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wings,
KRS-One,
Dead Boys,
John Holt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fugs,
Yaz,
Chris Corsano,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Alice Coltrane,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
John Lydon,
Popol Vuh,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Vladislav Delay,
The Tremeloes,
The Gladiators,
Pagans,
Erykah Badu,
This Heat,
Scan 7,
Nils Olav,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.