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 Barbados and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 Marine Girls to the crunk 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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Deadbeat,
Jimmy McGriff,
Banda Bassotti,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Hardrive,
Harmonia,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marc Almond,
Spoonie Gee,
Erykah Badu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Gladiators,
Cecil Taylor,
Stiv Bators,
Smog,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ornette Coleman,
Con Funk Shun,
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eurythmics,
Roxy Music,
Q and Not U,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roger Hodgson,
The Searchers,
Peter & Gordon,
Pole,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Eden Ahbez,
The Music Machine,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Cybotron,
Excepter,
John Cale,
Livin' Joy,
Todd Rundgren,
Pagans,
The Angels of Light,
Mission of Burma,
Avey Tare,
Albert Ayler,
Yusef Lateef,
Bizarre Inc.,
Lindisfarne,
Agitation Free,
Scratch Acid,
Popol Vuh,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eve St. Jones,
Bobby Sherman,
Dual Sessions,
New York Dolls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Pierre Henry,
Spandau Ballet,
Gabor Szabo,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.