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 Mongolia and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pagans to the rock 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Searchers 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tubeway Army,
Monks,
Groovy Waters,
Quando Quango,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Starr,
Eden Ahbez,
Glenn Branca,
Shuggie Otis,
Albert Ayler,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minutemen,
Joe Smooth,
The Evens,
Pulsallama,
Black Moon,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roxy Music,
Beasts of Bourbon,
T. Rex,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Real Kids,
The Raincoats,
David McCallum,
Reagan Youth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
Neu!,
The Count Five,
The Barracudas,
Lightning Bolt,
Procol Harum,
Erykah Badu,
Fat Boys,
Prince Buster,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Camouflage,
The Happenings,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
JFA,
Inner City,
Aaron Thompson,
One Last Wish,
The Residents,
Lungfish,
Television,
Tomorrow,
Jacob Miller,
Hot Snakes,
Yazoo,
Black Sheep,
Jerry's Kids,
Rapeman,
AZ,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dave Clark Five,
E-Dancer,
OOIOO,
Bobby Sherman,
Hardrive,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Echospace,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.