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 Kuwait and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Tim Buckley to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Flag record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals 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?
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang of Four,
Gichy Dan,
Moby Grape,
Eurythmics,
Fad Gadget,
The Toasters,
Brick,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gabor Szabo,
Joensuu 1685,
New Age Steppers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Franke,
Ronnie Foster,
World's Most,
Y Pants,
Dave Gahan,
Pussy Galore,
Steve Hackett,
Theoretical Girls,
Maurizio,
Rod Modell,
The Tremeloes,
Black Sheep,
Pole,
Ponytail,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Slits,
The Motions,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Davy DMX,
Junior Murvin,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Misunderstood,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scrapy,
Chris Corsano,
MC5,
Barrington Levy,
Skarface,
The Cowsills,
Silicon Teens,
Graham Central Station,
Sparks,
Das Ding,
New York Dolls,
Deepchord,
Pagans,
Don Cherry,
Mark Hollis,
Darondo,
Aural Exciters,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Underground Resistance,
Black Moon,
The Kinks,
Sandy B,
Joe Finger,
The Selecter,
Kool Moe Dee,
Warren Ellis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Curtis Mayfield,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.