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 Korea North and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 Lungfish to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The American Breed,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Young Rascals,
Girls At Our Best!,
Shoche,
Black Sheep,
Heaven 17,
X-Ray Spex,
Magazine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bill Wells,
Radiohead,
Kaleidoscope,
Severed Heads,
Flipper,
Babytalk,
Eli Mardock,
Circle Jerks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jesper Dahlback,
Carl Craig,
Can,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
Los Fastidios,
Nico,
Sixth Finger,
The Wake,
Don Cherry,
Gang Starr,
Isaac Hayes,
Moss Icon,
Agitation Free,
The Golliwogs,
Cluster,
Sight & Sound,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Drexciya,
Franke,
Deadbeat,
Angry Samoans,
The Divine Comedy,
Y Pants,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Happenings,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
Lalann,
Joe Finger,
Eric Dolphy,
Ornette Coleman,
The Last Poets,
Kerri Chandler,
The Motions,
Pylon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Stiv Bators,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.