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 Chad and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and London.
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 arpeggiator 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 Sandy B to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nils Olav,
the Bar-Kays,
Sexual Harrassment,
Vladislav Delay,
In Retrospect,
The Searchers,
The Selecter,
Steve Hackett,
Jacob Miller,
The Young Rascals,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Half Japanese,
Maurizio,
The Evens,
The Angels of Light,
Pagans,
The Dirtbombs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Todd Terry,
Fatback Band,
X-101,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Saints,
The Grass Roots,
Delon & Dalcan,
Boz Scaggs,
Mantronix,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Techniques,
DNA,
Colin Newman,
Scott Walker,
The Kinks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
D'Angelo,
Swell Maps,
Reuben Wilson,
Magazine,
The Standells,
Sugar Minott,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eric Dolphy,
Oneida,
AZ,
Clear Light,
Barbara Tucker,
Curtis Mayfield,
Scion,
The Leaves,
the Soft Cell,
Index,
Lalann,
Ponytail,
Marvin Gaye,
Brass Construction,
Ronnie Foster,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Audionom,
Sister Nancy,
The Martian,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.