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 Kiribati and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Flesh Eaters to the disco 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 Saints. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pantytec,
Main Source,
The United States of America,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül,
Babytalk,
Angry Samoans,
a-ha,
Lindisfarne,
Whodini,
Zero Boys,
The Wake,
Icehouse,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kayak,
Gerry Rafferty,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Massinfluence,
Janne Schatter,
The Moleskins,
Roger Hodgson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Tubeway Army,
Franke,
Cal Tjader,
Guru Guru,
Scion,
Eve St. Jones,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Litter,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Wings,
Delta 5,
Bizarre Inc.,
Joe Smooth,
The Five Americans,
Lalann,
Negative Approach,
Iggy Pop,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mo-Dettes,
Absolute Body Control,
Pharoah Sanders,
cv313,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Excepter,
Eddi Front,
Tears for Fears,
Ossler,
LL Cool J,
Suburban Knight,
Malaria!,
Yellowson,
Loose Ends,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ituana,
Index,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.