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 Iraq and from Edmonton.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bar-Kays to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-102,
OOIOO,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scrapy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minutemen,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Trojans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Little Man,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bill Wells,
Bob Dylan,
Television,
Sparks,
Juan Atkins,
Aural Exciters,
Visage,
Nik Kershaw,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marine Girls,
Fear,
Mantronix,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Blossom Toes,
Section 25,
The Standells,
The Misunderstood,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Birthday Party,
Joensuu 1685,
Colin Newman,
Aloha Tigers,
Inner City,
Tubeway Army,
Barbara Tucker,
The Slits,
Ludus,
Alice Coltrane,
ABC,
Ponytail,
Eric Dolphy,
The Toasters,
Lungfish,
Mandrill,
The Associates,
U.S. Maple,
Bauhaus,
Yellowson,
Con Funk Shun,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jacques Brel,
Moebius,
The Seeds,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.