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 Bahrain and from New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Suburban Knight to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Vladislav Delay,
Echospace,
Spoonie Gee,
Eve St. Jones,
Sparks,
The Black Dice,
Altered Images,
the Association,
The Martian,
Slick Rick,
Mandrill,
Funkadelic,
Crispy Ambulance,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Visage,
Cecil Taylor,
Cymande,
Freddie Wadling,
Scrapy,
Underground Resistance,
Tubeway Army,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Index,
Masters at Work,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Birthday Party,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ken Boothe,
Scion,
Brothers Johnson,
Popol Vuh,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Harmonia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DNA,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Basic Channel,
Icehouse,
John Coltrane,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jeff Lynne,
Massinfluence,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Scott Walker,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Nick Fraelich,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Yusef Lateef,
Little Man,
T.S.O.L.,
Nas,
Wally Richardson,
The Toasters,
The Victims,
Terrestrial Tones,
Black Bananas,
Matthew Bourne,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.