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 Dominica and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wally Richardson to the dance 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 Brick. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bill Near,
Sällskapet,
F. McDonald,
Swell Maps,
Brand Nubian,
Morten Harket,
Eddi Front,
Nico,
Harry Pussy,
Flamin' Groovies,
Camberwell Now,
Icehouse,
The Grass Roots,
Scrapy,
Ultimate Spinach,
Depeche Mode,
B.T. Express,
Alison Limerick,
The Electric Prunes,
Alphaville,
Chrome,
John Lydon,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Delta 5,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nik Kershaw,
Radio Birdman,
Oblivians,
Wolf Eyes,
Babytalk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kenny Larkin,
Sonic Youth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Motions,
Grandmaster Flash,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Pagans,
The Martian,
The Residents,
Organ,
Dennis Brown,
Livin' Joy,
Country Teasers,
Man Parrish,
Maleditus Sound,
The Five Americans,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Germs,
Scan 7,
The Techniques,
the Soft Cell,
Gang of Four,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Reagan Youth,
The Toasters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fuzztones,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chris Corsano,
The Human League,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.