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 Andorra and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 theremin 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 Hoover to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a sitar 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 organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minutemen,
Fatback Band,
Arthur Verocai,
H. Thieme,
The Neon Judgement,
June Days,
Avey Tare,
Kool Moe Dee,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sarah Menescal,
Electric Prunes,
The American Breed,
Man Parrish,
Isaac Hayes,
Junior Murvin,
Jerry's Kids,
The Count Five,
Arcadia,
China Crisis,
Bill Near,
Second Layer,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Modern Lovers,
L. Decosne,
Peter and Kerry,
Jeff Lynne,
The Zeros,
The Cure,
Eddi Front,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Buzzcocks,
The Wake,
Gang Gang Dance,
Theoretical Girls,
Tim Buckley,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Piero Umiliani,
Simply Red,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Flesh Eaters,
Roy Ayers,
Symarip,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Masters at Work,
Faust,
Tomorrow,
Amon Düül II,
Tom Boy,
Dual Sessions,
Warren Ellis,
Cal Tjader,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Reagan Youth,
B.T. Express,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang of Four,
Bizarre Inc.,
Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants, Y Pants.
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.