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 Namibia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes 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 The Happenings to the funk 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 Pussy Galore. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monochrome Set 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Beau Brummels,
Section 25,
Soul Sonic Force,
Skriet,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Banda Bassotti,
Blancmange,
The Slackers,
The Leaves,
Goldenarms,
Alton Ellis,
FM Einheit,
The Cramps,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Cheater Slicks,
Slick Rick,
X-Ray Spex,
Jacques Brel,
Second Layer,
Accadde A,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sixth Finger,
Infiniti,
Danielle Patucci,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Dave Clark Five,
Underground Resistance,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
These Immortal Souls,
Jandek,
Glenn Branca,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lightning Bolt,
Grauzone,
Niagra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Reed,
Television,
The Wake,
The Happenings,
Alison Limerick,
the Swans,
Man Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tim Buckley,
Cecil Taylor,
Aural Exciters,
Ronan,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New York Dolls,
Todd Rundgren,
Lucky Dragons,
Trumans Water,
Ludus,
Cameo,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.