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 Turkmenistan and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 James White and The Blacks to the rock 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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Girls At Our Best! 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gerry Rafferty 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?
Bad Manners,
Malaria!,
The Happenings,
Maurizio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cameo,
10cc,
Ossler,
Little Man,
Jacob Miller,
AZ,
Visage,
Underground Resistance,
Michelle Simonal,
The Walker Brothers,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unwound,
Piero Umiliani,
Magazine,
Severed Heads,
Motorama,
Tubeway Army,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Half Japanese,
Radiopuhelimet,
Shuggie Otis,
Camberwell Now,
Don Cherry,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pussy Galore,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
OOIOO,
The Grass Roots,
Icehouse,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Normal,
Joey Negro,
Jimmy McGriff,
MDC,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Leaves,
Kevin Saunderson,
Wire,
Boz Scaggs,
MC5,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Womack,
Sällskapet,
Niagra,
Aloha Tigers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Goldenarms,
Arab on Radar,
Sam Rivers,
Liliput,
Rapeman,
The Doors,
Ronan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
cv313,
Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth, Reagan Youth.
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.