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 Haiti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo 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 harpsichord 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 the Slits 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Roxy Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Steve Hackett,
Fat Boys,
Albert Ayler,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bluetip,
DJ Sneak,
Robert Wyatt,
Unrelated Segments,
Inner City,
Minnie Riperton,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gap Band,
Tomorrow,
Zapp,
Electric Prunes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Smog,
Brand Nubian,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
CMW,
Gastr Del Sol,
June Days,
a-ha,
Fear,
the Swans,
Harmonia,
Kerri Chandler,
Nas,
Ohio Players,
Whodini,
Radiopuhelimet,
Camberwell Now,
The Beau Brummels,
Scott Walker,
Jawbox,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cowsills,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bill Near,
Interpol,
Stockholm Monsters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mr. Review,
Agent Orange,
Technova,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Wells,
Peter and Kerry,
8 Eyed Spy,
ABC,
Jandek,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skaos,
Lou Christie,
The Pop Group,
The Durutti Column,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.