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 Montenegro and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Real Kids to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Buzzcocks,
Wally Richardson,
Toni Rubio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Leonard Cohen,
The Moleskins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dual Sessions,
Man Parrish,
Charles Mingus,
The Happenings,
Angry Samoans,
The Saints,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ultravox,
Au Pairs,
Crooked Eye,
Q and Not U,
Iggy Pop,
The Last Poets,
A Certain Ratio,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fire Engines,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eve St. Jones,
Harpers Bizarre,
Wings,
Ten City,
Sound Behaviour,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Bronski Beat,
Reuben Wilson,
Lower 48,
Franke,
Easy Going,
Metal Thangz,
Interpol,
The Music Machine,
David McCallum,
Theoretical Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
Section 25,
John Foxx,
Matthew Bourne,
Jacques Brel,
Bobby Womack,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
New York Dolls,
Gichy Dan,
Rhythm & Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
Rod Modell,
The Fortunes,
Harmonia,
Circle Jerks,
Agitation Free,
The Mummies,
Jacob Miller,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
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.