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 Guyana and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Normal to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
June of 44,
Deepchord,
Pussy Galore,
Gang Green,
Basic Channel,
The Flesh Eaters,
Qualms,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Stereo Dub,
Crime,
Maleditus Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Curtis Mayfield,
Circle Jerks,
The Angels of Light,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Television,
Smog,
Brick,
Shoche,
The Raincoats,
Mr. Review,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joe Smooth,
The Real Kids,
Freddie Wadling,
Rufus Thomas,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minny Pops,
Brand Nubian,
T. Rex,
Kevin Saunderson,
Harmonia,
The Offenders,
Popol Vuh,
Ponytail,
Thompson Twins,
the Swans,
Soul Sonic Force,
Severed Heads,
Don Cherry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
World's Most,
Von Mondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Bronski Beat,
Blancmange,
The Saints,
Dave Gahan,
Black Sheep,
Dark Day,
Gabor Szabo,
Pere Ubu,
Stiv Bators,
Skarface,
Camouflage,
Accadde A,
Zero Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.