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 Afghanistan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Rotary Connection to the jazz 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
The American Breed,
Ossler,
Procol Harum,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dave Gahan,
Severed Heads,
Japan,
Jeff Lynne,
Skriet,
Swans,
Country Teasers,
Prince Buster,
The Durutti Column,
The Gap Band,
Sällskapet,
Tubeway Army,
the Germs,
Popol Vuh,
Janne Schatter,
Ornette Coleman,
Alison Limerick,
Fat Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Leaves,
Sugar Minott,
Ludus,
Royal Trux,
Fluxion,
The New Christs,
The Moleskins,
The Cure,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Index,
Dead Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ohio Players,
Symarip,
Pere Ubu,
Heaven 17,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hoover,
Can,
Minor Threat,
Pussy Galore,
Grey Daturas,
Cheater Slicks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Deakin,
Funkadelic,
Lucky Dragons,
Bobby Womack,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Roxy Music,
Monolake,
The Names,
Nirvana,
Whodini,
Freddie Wadling,
Soul Sonic Force,
Das Ding,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.