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 Copenhagen.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the oboe 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 Dark Day to the dance 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 The Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All Siouxsie and the Banshees tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oblivians,
Alton Ellis,
Boredoms,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Judy Mowatt,
Steve Hackett,
The Happenings,
The Dirtbombs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Grauzone,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hoover,
Nirvana,
Organ,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moody Blues,
Blancmange,
Sun Ra,
The Slits,
Icehouse,
Deadbeat,
Scrapy,
Lyres,
Bill Near,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Swell Maps,
Crooked Eye,
Spandau Ballet,
Donny Hathaway,
Pylon,
Circle Jerks,
The Busters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Animal Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Nils Olav,
Jeru the Damaja,
Interpol,
New York Dolls,
Black Pus,
Unwound,
Lightning Bolt,
Kool Moe Dee,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aural Exciters,
The Human League,
Cybotron,
Al Stewart,
Bootsy Collins,
Q and Not U,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Half Japanese,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pantaleimon,
Graham Central Station,
Fort Wilson Riot,
R.M.O.,
Deepchord,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.