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 Somalia and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
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 Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo to the funk 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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All Mo-Dettes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pretty Things record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fluxion,
Scion,
Black Flag,
Reagan Youth,
Ultravox,
Dave Gahan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Maurizio,
Wire,
The Trojans,
The Doors,
Ken Boothe,
Surgeon,
The Skatalites,
Mars,
Henry Cow,
Infiniti,
Don Cherry,
Fad Gadget,
The Mojo Men,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Joyce Sims,
Yazoo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jeff Lynne,
Alison Limerick,
The Wake,
Porter Ricks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sandy B,
Tres Demented,
Mandrill,
Oneida,
The Detroit Cobras,
T. Rex,
Donny Hathaway,
The Selecter,
Young Marble Giants,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Index,
Fela Kuti,
Derrick May,
Terry Callier,
The Busters,
Lightning Bolt,
The Electric Prunes,
Quantec,
Jacques Brel,
Motorama,
Man Parrish,
Flipper,
Neu!,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Charles Mingus,
Marine Girls,
Yaz,
Agitation Free,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Groovy Waters,
Warren Ellis,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.