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 Argentina and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Tom Verlaine 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 David McCallum to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Amazonics,
X-101,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Neu!,
Hashim,
David McCallum,
The Doors,
The Smoke,
Fad Gadget,
AZ,
Gil Scott Heron,
Adolescents,
The Human League,
Harry Pussy,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moss Icon,
Aloha Tigers,
John Foxx,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Durutti Column,
Junior Murvin,
Deepchord,
The Blues Magoos,
The Techniques,
Wasted Youth,
Mr. Review,
Parry Music,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sonic Youth,
Carl Craig,
Radio Birdman,
ABC,
Donald Byrd,
Cecil Taylor,
Infiniti,
Bobby Sherman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pole,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ludus,
Loose Ends,
Trumans Water,
Pantytec,
Gichy Dan,
48th St. Collective,
Panda Bear,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Tremeloes,
Warsaw,
UT,
Duran Duran,
Joe Smooth,
David Axelrod,
Todd Rundgren,
Surgeon,
The United States of America,
The Blackbyrds,
Japan,
Von Mondo,
Laurel Aitken,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.