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 Bangladesh and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gang of Four to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Con Funk Shun. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pylon 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
FM Einheit,
8 Eyed Spy,
Chris & Cosey,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Motions,
Mr. Review,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Wake,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Leaves,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jacob Miller,
Wings,
Camberwell Now,
Kas Product,
Bill Wells,
Funky Four + One,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eve St. Jones,
Judy Mowatt,
Absolute Body Control,
Amon Düül,
Magazine,
Peter and Kerry,
F. McDonald,
Joe Finger,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dead Boys,
X-101,
The Litter,
Jeff Lynne,
Boredoms,
Reagan Youth,
The Gladiators,
New York Dolls,
Desert Stars,
Sound Behaviour,
The Slackers,
Heaven 17,
Deadbeat,
The Music Machine,
ABBA,
Neu!,
The Angels of Light,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
48th St. Collective,
Patti Smith,
Maurizio,
Newcleus,
The Happenings,
Bronski Beat,
Howard Jones,
Radiohead,
Cybotron,
the Sonics,
The Pop Group,
The Human League,
a-ha,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.