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 Congo 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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 linndrum 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 Judy Mowatt to the crunk 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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Trumans Water,
Freddie Wadling,
Negative Approach,
Gerry Rafferty,
Depeche Mode,
Fatback Band,
Scott Walker,
Marc Almond,
Pharoah Sanders,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
Deepchord,
Fad Gadget,
The Zeros,
Lyres,
Patti Smith,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sugar Minott,
Shuggie Otis,
One Last Wish,
Eddi Front,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crash Course in Science,
The Stooges,
Ohio Players,
The Black Dice,
Gabor Szabo,
The Five Americans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Goldenarms,
Sister Nancy,
Mr. Review,
Mantronix,
The Golliwogs,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Selecter,
Godley & Creme,
Vladislav Delay,
Gong,
Porter Ricks,
Derrick May,
Grandmaster Flash,
Glambeats Corp.,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Banda Bassotti,
Hardrive,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Simply Red,
The Motions,
Terry Callier,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Throbbing Gristle,
Janne Schatter,
Masters at Work,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül II,
The Dead C,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.