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 Venezuela 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stooges to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lyres. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet 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 Saints,
Ultravox,
Nirvana,
the Swans,
the Fania All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Magazine,
Bush Tetras,
Trumans Water,
Barrington Levy,
Wasted Youth,
Black Moon,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric B and Rakim,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Carl Craig,
Robert Hood,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gang of Four,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Monks,
Shuggie Otis,
Deakin,
Pussy Galore,
Joy Division,
Mandrill,
Popol Vuh,
Index,
The Gories,
The Stooges,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Chris Corsano,
Von Mondo,
Dennis Brown,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Organ,
Lakeside,
Newcleus,
Jesper Dahlback,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ronnie Foster,
Michelle Simonal,
10cc,
Mark Hollis,
Gong,
X-102,
Flipper,
The Happenings,
Eddi Front,
Severed Heads,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Names,
Dorothy Ashby,
Freddie Wadling,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Knickerbockers,
Spoonie Gee,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.