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 Saudi Arabia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Man Parrish to the crunk 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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Desert Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doors record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Gang Dance,
The Music Machine,
The Evens,
Throbbing Gristle,
Organ,
Lungfish,
The Real Kids,
the Germs,
Bluetip,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rotary Connection,
Fatback Band,
Los Fastidios,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Selecter,
This Heat,
Aaron Thompson,
Gang of Four,
Technova,
The Five Americans,
Dark Day,
Urselle,
The Blackbyrds,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Womack,
Bob Dylan,
Magazine,
Pere Ubu,
Japan,
Thee Headcoats,
Television Personalities,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Buzzcocks,
the Association,
Gang Starr,
Young Marble Giants,
Ken Boothe,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lebanon Hanover,
Junior Murvin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Erasure,
Flipper,
Scrapy,
The Golliwogs,
Crash Course in Science,
Soul II Soul,
OOIOO,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Q65,
Jacob Miller,
Harmonia,
Jimmy McGriff,
Underground Resistance,
The Names,
Todd Terry,
the Slits,
Popol Vuh,
Wings,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.