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 Tajikistan and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro 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 The Names to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Cymande,
Deadbeat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Peter and Kerry,
The Divine Comedy,
Cluster,
Mad Mike,
Altered Images,
Intrusion,
Desert Stars,
Josef K,
Qualms,
Roger Hodgson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Darondo,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deepchord,
Sam Rivers,
China Crisis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sun Ra,
Tomorrow,
Pierre Henry,
Ituana,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roxette,
Chrome,
Scrapy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pulsallama,
Ronnie Foster,
Funkadelic,
Juan Atkins,
Godley & Creme,
The Music Machine,
The Leaves,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minny Pops,
Fat Boys,
James White and The Blacks,
Scion,
Kerrie Biddell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Normal,
U.S. Maple,
Reuben Wilson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mo-Dettes,
Clear Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Stiv Bators,
Yazoo,
Gabor Szabo,
Blossom Toes,
Sonic Youth,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band, The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band.
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.