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 Zambia and from Houston.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ 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 Hoover to the electroclash 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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rites of Spring 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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?
Eli Mardock,
Unwound,
Soft Cell,
Peter & Gordon,
Al Stewart,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Josef K,
Sam Rivers,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Alphaville,
AZ,
Todd Rundgren,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stetsasonic,
Alton Ellis,
Marine Girls,
Byron Stingily,
The Slits,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bill Wells,
Ornette Coleman,
Moby Grape,
Grey Daturas,
Henry Cow,
Bill Near,
Silicon Teens,
K-Klass,
Depeche Mode,
Inner City,
Cecil Taylor,
Make Up,
Tubeway Army,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Remains,
The Cure,
Leonard Cohen,
The Saints,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
World's Most,
The Victims,
Marmalade,
La Düsseldorf,
FM Einheit,
The Smiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Guru Guru,
Fugazi,
Brass Construction,
The Gun Club,
The Wake,
The Gories,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Smog,
Animal Collective,
Cybotron,
The Five Americans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Bar-Kays,
Fela Kuti,
Tres Demented,
The Stooges,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.