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 Libya and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 harpsichord 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 Laurel Aitken to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord 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 clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Das Ding,
Talk Talk,
Bluetip,
Prince Buster,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultimate Spinach,
Darondo,
Theoretical Girls,
Visage,
Depeche Mode,
Cymande,
Tommy Roe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mandrill,
Oblivians,
Throbbing Gristle,
Supertramp,
Magazine,
The Misunderstood,
The Black Dice,
Harry Pussy,
Essential Logic,
Zapp,
Chrome,
Slave,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Basic Channel,
Minny Pops,
Eurythmics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Vogues,
Skriet,
Mars,
David Axelrod,
The Standells,
The Kinks,
Ultra Naté,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
cv313,
Gang Starr,
New Age Steppers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Barbara Tucker,
Metal Thangz,
Sister Nancy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Banda Bassotti,
T.S.O.L.,
Barry Ungar,
Stereo Dub,
Television Personalities,
Boredoms,
Echospace,
Brick,
Carl Craig,
Fad Gadget,
Robert Hood,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.