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 Ecuador and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Calgary.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sound Behaviour to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Hutcherson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rufus Thomas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
B.T. Express,
Thompson Twins,
Monolake,
Radio Birdman,
Sex Pistols,
Dawn Penn,
Grandmaster Flash,
Anakelly,
Rosa Yemen,
Youth Brigade,
Vladislav Delay,
Fugazi,
The Slackers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sparks,
Sam Rivers,
The Searchers,
Sun City Girls,
The Real Kids,
Magazine,
Dark Day,
Depeche Mode,
The Fall,
The Human League,
Oblivians,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Country Teasers,
Sällskapet,
La Düsseldorf,
Albert Ayler,
Traffic Nightmare,
Monks,
Kaleidoscope,
The Birthday Party,
These Immortal Souls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Standells,
Kenny Larkin,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deadbeat,
Aswad,
Laurel Aitken,
Davy DMX,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Livin' Joy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Raincoats,
Lower 48,
Marine Girls,
Rites of Spring,
Goldenarms,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Moleskins,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Smoke,
Dual Sessions,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Dave Clark Five,
Terry Callier,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.