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 Jamaica and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tears for Fears to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moss Icon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Maurizio,
Porter Ricks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eli Mardock,
Gong,
Vladislav Delay,
Panda Bear,
Barry Ungar,
Flash Fearless,
The Gories,
Malaria!,
The Dead C,
Soul II Soul,
Lalann,
Massinfluence,
Man Parrish,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Axelrod,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Jawbox,
Blancmange,
Tears for Fears,
Lindisfarne,
Ossler,
Kayak,
OOIOO,
Black Bananas,
Aloha Tigers,
Sixth Finger,
Electric Prunes,
Zapp,
World's Most,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
David Bowie,
Qualms,
Funkadelic,
Sällskapet,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jerry Gold Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Spoonie Gee,
Essential Logic,
X-Ray Spex,
Rhythm & Sound,
Intrusion,
Accadde A,
The Invisible,
Mandrill,
Camouflage,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rod Modell,
The Mojo Men,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nils Olav,
Kerri Chandler,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lyres,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Basic Channel,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.