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 Bangladesh and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ronnie Foster to the electroclash 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Dark Day,
Aaron Thompson,
Lower 48,
Ultravox,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Intrusion,
Crime,
Fatback Band,
June of 44,
Al Stewart,
The Golliwogs,
Sun City Girls,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ronnie Foster,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T.S.O.L.,
Shoche,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Delta 5,
The Busters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bobby Sherman,
L. Decosne,
Cybotron,
The Leaves,
The Real Kids,
Albert Ayler,
X-102,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Barrington Levy,
Unwound,
Pagans,
Ronan,
Joensuu 1685,
Quantec,
The Cramps,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Five Americans,
The Victims,
10cc,
Stetsasonic,
Hoover,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Music Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arcadia,
Q and Not U,
Tomorrow,
Sällskapet,
Public Enemy,
Roger Hodgson,
Pussy Galore,
Soulsonic Force,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Techniques,
The Standells,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.