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 Austria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe 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 Peter and Kerry to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joyce Sims,
Soft Machine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Young Marble Giants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Toasters,
Chris Corsano,
These Immortal Souls,
The Pop Group,
Porter Ricks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Outsiders,
Underground Resistance,
The Motions,
Interpol,
Arthur Verocai,
Brick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sex Pistols,
Los Fastidios,
The Sonics,
The New Christs,
Sun Ra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Terry Callier,
The Monks,
Eli Mardock,
Ituana,
Isaac Hayes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
B.T. Express,
Ice-T,
The Mojo Men,
Angry Samoans,
Moby Grape,
The United States of America,
The Birthday Party,
Godley & Creme,
Dual Sessions,
Groovy Waters,
Marc Almond,
Albert Ayler,
Jesper Dahlback,
Rites of Spring,
Scratch Acid,
Pussy Galore,
The Victims,
Crime,
Pylon,
The Evens,
Half Japanese,
Kayak,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sam Rivers,
David McCallum,
The Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.