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 Tonga and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Angels of Light to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Skarface tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reagan Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
John Coltrane,
Essential Logic,
The Pretty Things,
Blake Baxter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Archie Shepp,
Excepter,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultravox,
X-102,
Monks,
Aural Exciters,
The Evens,
Can,
Agent Orange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Television Personalities,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Groovy Waters,
Reuben Wilson,
The Victims,
Duran Duran,
Hasil Adkins,
Unwound,
Ronnie Foster,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sarah Menescal,
Fugazi,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bobby Sherman,
Moss Icon,
Barry Ungar,
Organ,
Brass Construction,
New Order,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Chrome,
Monolake,
the Germs,
The Residents,
Ossler,
Yusef Lateef,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Young Rascals,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Sheep,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Mission of Burma,
Amazonics,
Minutemen,
The Gun Club,
Sexual Harrassment,
Skaos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ice-T,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sister Nancy,
World's Most,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.