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 Switzerland and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Country Joe & The Fish to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suicide 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Todd Rundgren,
Make Up,
June Days,
Hardrive,
The Moleskins,
Monolake,
Cymande,
Sex Pistols,
Unrelated Segments,
Silicon Teens,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Cosmic Jokers,
T. Rex,
ABBA,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Electric Prunes,
Hot Snakes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Yaz,
Bad Manners,
Mission of Burma,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Modern Lovers,
Spoonie Gee,
Lungfish,
Agent Orange,
Alice Coltrane,
Pere Ubu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Lou Christie,
The Count Five,
OOIOO,
The Residents,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Angels of Light,
Darondo,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
New York Dolls,
Byron Stingily,
Tears for Fears,
Surgeon,
Groovy Waters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Model 500,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lower 48,
Bob Dylan,
Pussy Galore,
Interpol,
Robert Wyatt,
The Litter,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Terry Callier,
Bronski Beat,
The Raincoats,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hashim,
Scan 7,
Angry Samoans,
James White and The Blacks,
Wally Richardson,
Lakeside,
Reagan Youth,
Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian, Brand Nubian.
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.