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 Niger and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Neil Young to the grunge 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vainqueur,
ABC,
The Techniques,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suicide,
Masters at Work,
The Fugs,
John Coltrane,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Excepter,
T. Rex,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cramps,
Jacob Miller,
The Vogues,
Boz Scaggs,
The Barracudas,
L. Decosne,
AZ,
Fad Gadget,
Nils Olav,
Bluetip,
Pole,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Five Americans,
Robert Hood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Michelle Simonal,
The Flesh Eaters,
Althea and Donna,
the Normal,
Deepchord,
Bobby Womack,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cybotron,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Shadows of Knight,
Oblivians,
Glenn Branca,
The Young Rascals,
Nik Kershaw,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Severed Heads,
Brass Construction,
Mission of Burma,
Smog,
The Misunderstood,
Yellowson,
Yaz,
Erykah Badu,
Steve Hackett,
Dave Gahan,
The Velvet Underground,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
Ohio Players,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.