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 Croatia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Velvet Underground 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry's Kids,
The Walker Brothers,
The Sound,
Darondo,
Oneida,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Copeland,
Surgeon,
Bluetip,
kango's stein massive,
The Grass Roots,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Blues Magoos,
Albert Ayler,
The Young Rascals,
Rufus Thomas,
Sam Rivers,
Ice-T,
Blancmange,
OOIOO,
The Fortunes,
D'Angelo,
Bobby Womack,
the Germs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Quadrant,
Robert Hood,
The Mojo Men,
Cluster,
Skarface,
Minny Pops,
Gang of Four,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Associates,
Main Source,
Soul II Soul,
Ludus,
Frankie Knuckles,
Janne Schatter,
DJ Sneak,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Shadows of Knight,
ABBA,
Amon Düül,
Swell Maps,
48th St. Collective,
Bill Near,
Scientists,
Eurythmics,
The Five Americans,
Wire,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sister Nancy,
Whodini,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amon Düül II,
Lightning Bolt,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.