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 Italy and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 The Move to the rap 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 Japan. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Albert Ayler,
Juan Atkins,
Moby Grape,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Hood,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bad Manners,
Jawbox,
Black Pus,
Yusef Lateef,
June Days,
Laurel Aitken,
The Raincoats,
EPMD,
Vainqueur,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Magma,
Pantaleimon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eric Dolphy,
Drexciya,
Black Flag,
Tropical Tobacco,
Agitation Free,
ABBA,
Erasure,
Dave Gahan,
Dawn Penn,
T.S.O.L.,
Technova,
Minor Threat,
the Bar-Kays,
Dual Sessions,
Ohio Players,
In Retrospect,
Freddie Wadling,
The Monochrome Set,
Audionom,
Organ,
Nick Fraelich,
The Red Krayola,
Man Parrish,
The Cowsills,
Jesper Dahlback,
8 Eyed Spy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scrapy,
Cymande,
Spoonie Gee,
Aloha Tigers,
Neil Young,
Shoche,
Jerry's Kids,
ABC,
Althea and Donna,
Hardrive,
Derrick Morgan,
Wasted Youth,
Model 500,
Theoretical Girls,
Ronnie Foster,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.