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 Kosovo and from Portland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Magazine to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Agent Orange,
Jimmy McGriff,
Drexciya,
Roy Ayers,
The Martian,
Sex Pistols,
Arcadia,
Funky Four + One,
Ponytail,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Human League,
The Wake,
Derrick Morgan,
Camberwell Now,
Thompson Twins,
Vainqueur,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Goldenarms,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Kas Product,
Hot Snakes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Flipper,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
X-101,
Panda Bear,
Bobby Byrd,
Lalo Schifrin,
Matthew Bourne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Star Department,
Radio Birdman,
The Gladiators,
Rod Modell,
The Walker Brothers,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Dead C,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jacques Brel,
F. McDonald,
The Barracudas,
Wally Richardson,
The Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
Smog,
Skaos,
Lungfish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gun Club,
The Selecter,
the Slits,
Japan,
Can,
Wings,
The Names,
Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo, Von Mondo.
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.