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 San Marino and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Houston.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Gang of Four to the grunge 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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
The Seeds,
Freddie Wadling,
Soul II Soul,
The Slits,
Cameo,
Anakelly,
Von Mondo,
Scan 7,
Massinfluence,
Unrelated Segments,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
New Age Steppers,
the Soft Cell,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fatback Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Byron Stingily,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Thee Headcoats,
Suburban Knight,
Fugazi,
Animal Collective,
Faust,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lindisfarne,
Zapp,
Monolake,
Excepter,
Robert Hood,
Mark Hollis,
Jeff Lynne,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Youth Brigade,
The Kinks,
B.T. Express,
David Bowie,
Nik Kershaw,
Tommy Roe,
Alice Coltrane,
Erasure,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Last Poets,
Gang Green,
The Mummies,
Soul Sonic Force,
Simply Red,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marshall Jefferson,
Swans,
Grey Daturas,
Ludus,
Q65,
The Golliwogs,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Panda Bear,
Lakeside,
Wolf Eyes,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.