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 Iceland and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Negative Approach to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Audionom,
Toni Rubio,
Deepchord,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bob Dylan,
Donald Byrd,
Crispy Ambulance,
Derrick May,
Warren Ellis,
Jeff Lynne,
Ken Boothe,
Jerry's Kids,
Al Stewart,
Bobby Sherman,
Skarface,
Roy Ayers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Beau Brummels,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Morten Harket,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eurythmics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Skatalites,
ABC,
Pierre Henry,
Stetsasonic,
Ludus,
Hot Snakes,
Kenny Larkin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
FM Einheit,
Suicide,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Star Department,
DNA,
The Cure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
48th St. Collective,
Neil Young,
Sarah Menescal,
Soul II Soul,
Monks,
The Dirtbombs,
Jandek,
Intrusion,
UT,
Byron Stingily,
Dual Sessions,
The Kinks,
Goldenarms,
The Move,
Clear Light,
Pussy Galore,
Arthur Verocai,
Bill Near,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.