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 El Salvador and from Shanghai.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the mellotron 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 John Cale to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All The Blues Magoos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Connie Case record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rites of Spring,
The Alarm Clocks,
cv313,
Royal Trux,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fall,
The Smoke,
Crispian St. Peters,
Ultravox,
Quando Quango,
Ice-T,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Real Kids,
Unrelated Segments,
The Buckinghams,
The Slits,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric B and Rakim,
Brass Construction,
The Stooges,
John Lydon,
Cybotron,
Lucky Dragons,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ohio Players,
Black Pus,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mo-Dettes,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Half Japanese,
World's Most,
Nirvana,
Lungfish,
Pulsallama,
Public Enemy,
Animal Collective,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jawbox,
Faraquet,
Wolf Eyes,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Knickerbockers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rhythm & Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Blossom Toes,
Oneida,
John Coltrane,
Easy Going,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Matthew Bourne,
Lalann,
Roxy Music,
Arcadia,
Sugar Minott,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Associates,
K-Klass,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Boredoms,
The Techniques,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.