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 Cape Verde and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
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 organ 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 T. Rex to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bronski Beat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Livin' Joy,
Johnny Clarke,
Supertramp,
Ludus,
Nik Kershaw,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Byrd,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Al Stewart,
Todd Rundgren,
Faraquet,
Half Japanese,
Angry Samoans,
the Normal,
Arab on Radar,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers,
Maurizio,
the Swans,
Sun Ra,
Letta Mbulu,
Roxette,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Lee Hazlewood,
Funky Four + One,
Bobby Sherman,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Intrusion,
Big Daddy Kane,
kango's stein massive,
This Heat,
The Vogues,
Rapeman,
Zero Boys,
Ten City,
Pole,
Donald Byrd,
Dual Sessions,
Delta 5,
The Kinks,
Smog,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Camouflage,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oblivians,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
Robert Görl,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brass Construction,
Stetsasonic,
Anthony Braxton,
Mo-Dettes,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.