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 Marshall Islands and from Bologna.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 organ 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 Second Layer to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brand Nubian,
Albert Ayler,
The Skatalites,
Joe Smooth,
Pere Ubu,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
June of 44,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Charles Mingus,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gap Band,
Barry Ungar,
Roxette,
Freddie Wadling,
Popol Vuh,
Lyres,
Pagans,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Style,
Hasil Adkins,
Bush Tetras,
Anthony Braxton,
A Certain Ratio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultravox,
Outsiders,
Slave,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Toasters,
The Smoke,
Pet Shop Boys,
Connie Case,
Little Man,
Deakin,
Flipper,
Fat Boys,
The Angels of Light,
Circle Jerks,
Eddi Front,
Mark Hollis,
The Modern Lovers,
Quando Quango,
Bronski Beat,
Malaria!,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Warren Ellis,
The Raincoats,
Guru Guru,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kerrie Biddell,
This Heat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Donald Byrd,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Buckinghams,
Oneida,
Juan Atkins,
Erasure,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.