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 Bangladesh and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Five Americans to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Detroit Cobras. All the underground hits.
All Flash Fearless tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Eric Dolphy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Goldenarms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Maurizio,
Von Mondo,
Radiohead,
Minnie Riperton,
the Slits,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bad Manners,
Gang of Four,
The New Christs,
Mr. Review,
ABC,
Pagans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Laurel Aitken,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Youth Brigade,
Arthur Verocai,
Whodini,
Clear Light,
The Victims,
Jeff Lynne,
The Misunderstood,
Gang Gang Dance,
the Germs,
Los Fastidios,
Fatback Band,
Neil Young,
Pussy Galore,
Pere Ubu,
PIL,
X-Ray Spex,
FM Einheit,
Lungfish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Fad Gadget,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
B.T. Express,
L. Decosne,
the Normal,
Ice-T,
The Dirtbombs,
La Düsseldorf,
The Moleskins,
Patti Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ituana,
Traffic Nightmare,
Peter & Gordon,
Stockholm Monsters,
Swell Maps,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
F. McDonald,
Wire,
Amazonics,
Lyres, Lyres, Lyres, Lyres.
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.