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 Luxembourg and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Section 25 to the punk 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Susan Cadogan,
Loose Ends,
The Dirtbombs,
World's Most,
John Coltrane,
Surgeon,
Gang of Four,
Wally Richardson,
The Modern Lovers,
New Age Steppers,
The Blackbyrds,
The American Breed,
K-Klass,
Swell Maps,
Gerry Rafferty,
Kerri Chandler,
The Fugs,
Royal Trux,
Nico,
The Mummies,
Monolake,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crime,
The Fortunes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Monks,
Organ,
Arab on Radar,
Angry Samoans,
The Angels of Light,
Easy Going,
Magma,
The Music Machine,
Dual Sessions,
Arcadia,
Public Enemy,
The Techniques,
Dead Boys,
Aloha Tigers,
Blancmange,
Clear Light,
E-Dancer,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Scan 7,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Soft Cell,
Con Funk Shun,
Maleditus Sound,
Marmalade,
Sister Nancy,
The Birthday Party,
Boz Scaggs,
Suicide,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Duran Duran,
The Searchers,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.