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 Germany and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Robert Palmer 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 Joe Finger to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ponytail record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
The Tremeloes,
Icehouse,
Average White Band,
The Fall,
Bobbi Humphrey,
B.T. Express,
Iggy Pop,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Byrd,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cecil Taylor,
Whodini,
Moby Grape,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry's Kids,
Lalann,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Standells,
Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mo-Dettes,
Shoche,
Drexciya,
The Slackers,
Aural Exciters,
Camberwell Now,
Monks,
John Holt,
Joyce Sims,
The Detroit Cobras,
Crash Course in Science,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Reed,
Black Moon,
Mission of Burma,
Marvin Gaye,
Malaria!,
The Red Krayola,
The Grass Roots,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
the Swans,
Radio Birdman,
Lyres,
Erykah Badu,
June of 44,
The Offenders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Yusef Lateef,
Y Pants,
Saccharine Trust,
Infiniti,
Robert Wyatt,
Loose Ends,
Aswad,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Lucky Dragons,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.