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 Ukraine and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Mars to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nas 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 an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stockholm Monsters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sonny Sharrock,
Model 500,
June of 44,
DJ Style,
Patti Smith,
D'Angelo,
Symarip,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ultravox,
Donny Hathaway,
Slick Rick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fortunes,
the Association,
Urselle,
Rekid,
Bizarre Inc.,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Görl,
Brass Construction,
Sound Behaviour,
DJ Sneak,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lalo Schifrin,
U.S. Maple,
Throbbing Gristle,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sarah Menescal,
Nick Fraelich,
Saccharine Trust,
The Happenings,
Underground Resistance,
Eurythmics,
Bill Wells,
Country Teasers,
The Moleskins,
48th St. Collective,
Index,
Public Enemy,
Fela Kuti,
Au Pairs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Techniques,
Connie Case,
Stiv Bators,
Flamin' Groovies,
Faust,
Skarface,
The Young Rascals,
Joey Negro,
The Fugs,
Marvin Gaye,
Michelle Simonal,
FM Einheit,
Terry Callier,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.