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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 Milan and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Laurel Aitken to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Sarah Menescal,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Angels of Light,
Matthew Bourne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kerri Chandler,
The Real Kids,
Guru Guru,
Cal Tjader,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Swans,
Girls At Our Best!,
Nils Olav,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
The United States of America,
Minny Pops,
Pantaleimon,
Aaron Thompson,
Alice Coltrane,
Anakelly,
10cc,
A Certain Ratio,
Gastr Del Sol,
La Düsseldorf,
Stiv Bators,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Adolescents,
The Count Five,
UT,
Chris Corsano,
Todd Rundgren,
Althea and Donna,
Soft Cell,
Circle Jerks,
Liliput,
Sandy B,
The Remains,
Letta Mbulu,
Unrelated Segments,
Scratch Acid,
John Holt,
Boogie Down Productions,
Mantronix,
Mandrill,
Rod Modell,
Mr. Review,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scan 7,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Mad Mike,
Ultimate Spinach,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Alison Limerick,
The Birthday Party,
Talk Talk,
The Doors,
Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd., Public Image Ltd..
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.