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 Georgia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 spring reverb 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 Youth Brigade 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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Swans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Ken Boothe,
Zapp,
Fad Gadget,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sister Nancy,
Lalann,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gladiators,
The Dirtbombs,
The Real Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
Stetsasonic,
Pantytec,
Darondo,
Roy Ayers,
MDC,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Animal Collective,
Symarip,
The Durutti Column,
Duran Duran,
The United States of America,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Little Man,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Goldenarms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Newcleus,
Hasil Adkins,
The Angels of Light,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cymande,
Eurythmics,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Joe Smooth,
Guru Guru,
Iggy Pop,
Royal Trux,
Blake Baxter,
Boredoms,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
cv313,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Gap Band,
Joe Finger,
Henry Cow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Red Krayola,
Steve Hackett,
Saccharine Trust,
The Moleskins,
Panda Bear,
Reagan Youth,
X-101,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dead C,
Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange, Agent Orange.
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.