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 New Zealand and from London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Siglo XX to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Q and Not U tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Motions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin 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?
The Standells,
Tom Boy,
Franke,
B.T. Express,
The Buckinghams,
The Invisible,
Index,
Pere Ubu,
Metal Thangz,
Outsiders,
Davy DMX,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Soft Cell,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Sister Nancy,
Vladislav Delay,
Jacques Brel,
The Pretty Things,
Fat Boys,
Y Pants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jeff Lynne,
Ultravox,
Black Moon,
Piero Umiliani,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Hill,
Pagans,
The Beau Brummels,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ken Boothe,
Joy Division,
Radiohead,
The Saints,
Ronnie Foster,
Hot Snakes,
Skriet,
Scan 7,
Cameo,
La Düsseldorf,
The American Breed,
Scientists,
Gang Starr,
Lalann,
Kevin Saunderson,
Reuben Wilson,
John Lydon,
Motorama,
Bootsy Collins,
CMW,
The Seeds,
Aswad,
Graham Central Station,
Television Personalities,
Minor Threat,
Urselle,
Harry Pussy,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.