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 Zambia 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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gil Scott Heron to the grime 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Delta 5 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fugazi,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
John Coltrane,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lakeside,
Severed Heads,
Tubeway Army,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lyres,
E-Dancer,
The Star Department,
Sonic Youth,
Graham Central Station,
The Gladiators,
Lindisfarne,
Eddi Front,
A Certain Ratio,
Hasil Adkins,
Los Fastidios,
The Cowsills,
The Young Rascals,
The Gun Club,
Bang On A Can,
The Fugs,
Scott Walker,
Thompson Twins,
Fatback Band,
The Gories,
Index,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Pus,
Royal Trux,
Television,
D'Angelo,
Surgeon,
a-ha,
Adolescents,
Glenn Branca,
Pagans,
Loose Ends,
Fad Gadget,
Metal Thangz,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Alice Coltrane,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smoke,
Quadrant,
Excepter,
Terrestrial Tones,
B.T. Express,
Section 25,
Lightning Bolt,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Techniques,
Wire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible, The Invisible.
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.