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 Togo and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Motions to the rap 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Harry Pussy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tomorrow,
Echospace,
Suburban Knight,
The Cure,
Roy Ayers,
Gang Green,
Brand Nubian,
The Neon Judgement,
Arab on Radar,
Clear Light,
Zero Boys,
Henry Cow,
Barrington Levy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nirvana,
Alice Coltrane,
Excepter,
Amon Düül,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Busters,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Trumans Water,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kaleidoscope,
T. Rex,
Buzzcocks,
Pylon,
The Slackers,
Alton Ellis,
Model 500,
Pulsallama,
Monks,
Todd Terry,
Cal Tjader,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Infiniti,
Donny Hathaway,
X-101,
Whodini,
The Modern Lovers,
Chrome,
Lou Reed,
Mo-Dettes,
Monolake,
Swell Maps,
Donald Byrd,
The Standells,
Heaven 17,
Albert Ayler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Germs,
Maurizio,
In Retrospect,
ABBA,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.