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 Thailand and from Paris.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Pretty Things to the jazz 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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Todd Terry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Buzzcocks,
Model 500,
The Music Machine,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Peter and Kerry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Litter,
Average White Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Youth Brigade,
Blake Baxter,
Laurel Aitken,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Marc Almond,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Colin Newman,
Joey Negro,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Infiniti,
Mars,
Ronnie Foster,
Henry Cow,
X-Ray Spex,
D'Angelo,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eurythmics,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Skarface,
The Young Rascals,
The American Breed,
Bluetip,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wally Richardson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Davy DMX,
Alice Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Anakelly,
Isaac Hayes,
Icehouse,
Freddie Wadling,
The Saints,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Red Krayola,
Kaleidoscope,
Minor Threat,
Minutemen,
Hashim,
The Blackbyrds,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Fire Engines,
The Divine Comedy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Au Pairs,
Jawbox,
Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust, Saccharine Trust.
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.