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 Mozambique and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Michael McDonald 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the funk 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rites of Spring record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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?
Cybotron,
Ten City,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Stiv Bators,
Wasted Youth,
Letta Mbulu,
Icehouse,
Peter & Gordon,
L. Decosne,
Nas,
Colin Newman,
James White and The Blacks,
The Moleskins,
Aaron Thompson,
The Martian,
Pierre Henry,
Nils Olav,
Ituana,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Judy Mowatt,
Glenn Branca,
Adolescents,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Sound,
The Monochrome Set,
Arab on Radar,
Bush Tetras,
Joe Smooth,
T. Rex,
Barry Ungar,
Procol Harum,
Con Funk Shun,
Tim Buckley,
The Names,
Yaz,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Minnie Riperton,
Eddi Front,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roger Hodgson,
Slave,
Outsiders,
Desert Stars,
Cymande,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Happenings,
Quando Quango,
The Blues Magoos,
Robert Hood,
Bill Wells,
Magazine,
Clear Light,
Harmonia,
Zero Boys,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Deadbeat,
Gang Green,
Metal Thangz,
Sister Nancy,
Ken Boothe,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Joe Finger,
D'Angelo,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White 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.