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 Argentina and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mojo Men record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Searchers,
Ultra Naté,
The Trojans,
Soft Cell,
Yellowson,
Joy Division,
Moby Grape,
Country Joe & The Fish,
David McCallum,
Bill Wells,
Eli Mardock,
Stiv Bators,
Inner City,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Moleskins,
Heaven 17,
Bobby Byrd,
Reagan Youth,
Interpol,
Sun City Girls,
The Gories,
Flipper,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rotary Connection,
The Index,
Electric Prunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Urselle,
Pere Ubu,
Cheater Slicks,
Colin Newman,
Moss Icon,
Anakelly,
Bad Manners,
Godley & Creme,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Spoonie Gee,
Model 500,
The Slits,
X-102,
Jacques Brel,
June of 44,
H. Thieme,
PIL,
Warsaw,
Black Moon,
JFA,
Royal Trux,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Japan,
Harry Pussy,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Starr,
Theoretical Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bluetip,
Essential Logic,
Brand Nubian,
The Knickerbockers,
Fat Boys,
Jawbox,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Cramps,
Loose Ends,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.