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 Romania and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 Marvin Gaye to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Godley & Creme,
Marc Almond,
The Victims,
Ultravox,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Minutemen,
Marine Girls,
Matthew Bourne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Tom Boy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Unwound,
The Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Toasters,
The Vogues,
Soft Machine,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rekid,
Main Source,
Popol Vuh,
the Association,
Scrapy,
Radio Birdman,
The Zeros,
Toni Rubio,
Bang On A Can,
Mo-Dettes,
Wings,
Spoonie Gee,
Jerry's Kids,
Bronski Beat,
June Days,
The Doobie Brothers,
Peter and Kerry,
Isaac Hayes,
Black Sheep,
Don Cherry,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Swell Maps,
Underground Resistance,
Television Personalities,
Jandek,
Sandy B,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eden Ahbez,
Inner City,
Excepter,
Khruangbin,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Smoke,
Scion,
Crash Course in Science,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Donny Hathaway,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.