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 Ghana and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Delhi.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Arab on Radar to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Theoretical Girls. All the underground hits.
All A Flock of Seagulls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlback record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
UT,
The Neon Judgement,
Fat Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wire,
Camberwell Now,
Audionom,
Big Daddy Kane,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Erykah Badu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cecil Taylor,
Jawbox,
Outsiders,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crispian St. Peters,
Unrelated Segments,
Faraquet,
The Gladiators,
June Days,
Black Bananas,
Qualms,
the Sonics,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Babytalk,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Royal Trux,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Talk Talk,
Freddie Wadling,
Television,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Absolute Body Control,
Hoover,
Minutemen,
Subhumans,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Last Poets,
KRS-One,
Deadbeat,
Albert Ayler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gichy Dan,
The Electric Prunes,
Chris Corsano,
Stetsasonic,
The Durutti Column,
Shoche,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang of Four,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Max Romeo,
Wings,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pantaleimon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roger Hodgson,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.