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 Romania and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 guitar 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 Jeff Mills to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Morten Harket 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?
The Offenders,
Y Pants,
Rotary Connection,
Crime,
John Cale,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Motions,
Marcia Griffiths,
Marc Almond,
Skarface,
The Mojo Men,
DJ Sneak,
Deadbeat,
The Names,
Faust,
The Music Machine,
Scratch Acid,
Tomorrow,
Radiohead,
Shuggie Otis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
Public Enemy,
Sixth Finger,
Roger Hodgson,
Delta 5,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Saints,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Simply Red,
Jandek,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Silicon Teens,
Bob Dylan,
Country Teasers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Misunderstood,
Tears for Fears,
The United States of America,
Glambeats Corp.,
Skriet,
One Last Wish,
Minor Threat,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Section 25,
The Divine Comedy,
Heaven 17,
The Pretty Things,
Technova,
Wings,
Kenny Larkin,
Amazonics,
Make Up,
The Martian,
Anakelly,
Warren Ellis,
L. Decosne,
MDC,
Lalann,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band.
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.