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 East Timor and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Juan Atkins to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All The Smoke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Colin Newman,
Nils Olav,
Slick Rick,
Marvin Gaye,
Terry Callier,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Buzzcocks,
Shoche,
Peter and Kerry,
The Monochrome Set,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rapeman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mark Hollis,
Lungfish,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Music Machine,
Icehouse,
The Misunderstood,
The Star Department,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Jeff Lynne,
The Slackers,
Darondo,
Glenn Branca,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pussy Galore,
Michelle Simonal,
Monks,
Angry Samoans,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jawbox,
The Blues Magoos,
The Moody Blues,
MDC,
Johnny Osbourne,
Roxy Music,
The Fall,
Maleditus Sound,
Dave Gahan,
Hasil Adkins,
Metal Thangz,
Roger Hodgson,
DJ Sneak,
The Zeros,
Mars,
Ohio Players,
Lightning Bolt,
Morten Harket,
Alton Ellis,
The Birthday Party,
48th St. Collective,
These Immortal Souls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Dave Clark Five,
Deakin,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.