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 Maldives and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 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 Nirvana to the rap 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 Tears for Fears. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Bowie 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Sugar Minott,
Lower 48,
Maurizio,
Bizarre Inc.,
AZ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Country Teasers,
Section 25,
Derrick Morgan,
H. Thieme,
Hot Snakes,
Hashim,
E-Dancer,
The Vogues,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jacob Miller,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
X-Ray Spex,
Brass Construction,
Mantronix,
Pagans,
The Fortunes,
Pole,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Wake,
Depeche Mode,
Leonard Cohen,
Little Man,
Todd Terry,
Charles Mingus,
The Dirtbombs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Marshall Jefferson,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Iggy Pop,
Traffic Nightmare,
Motorama,
Althea and Donna,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Steve Hackett,
Man Eating Sloth,
Unrelated Segments,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sarah Menescal,
Eddi Front,
Stereo Dub,
Eli Mardock,
Silicon Teens,
The Gun Club,
Sight & Sound,
The Litter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cymande,
New York Dolls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.