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 Tajikistan and from Lille.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Deadbeat to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
Altered Images,
World's Most,
Porter Ricks,
Eurythmics,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gories,
Crooked Eye,
Brass Construction,
Bluetip,
Vainqueur,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
H. Thieme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Deakin,
The Tremeloes,
The Electric Prunes,
Massinfluence,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Walker Brothers,
The Smiths,
Crispy Ambulance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Angry Samoans,
Nation of Ulysses,
Cameo,
This Heat,
Tres Demented,
Ten City,
Isaac Hayes,
Duran Duran,
K-Klass,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Supertramp,
Model 500,
The American Breed,
Ronan,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The J.B.'s,
Crash Course in Science,
The Cowsills,
The Star Department,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Pus,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Khruangbin,
Maurizio,
Oblivians,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fugazi,
Barbara Tucker,
Dead Boys,
The Mojo Men,
David Bowie,
UT,
The Dirtbombs,
The Count Five,
Sun City Girls,
Lalo Schifrin,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric Copeland,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.