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 Kiribati and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Scientists to the funk 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 United States of America. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
The Toasters,
Model 500,
Jesper Dahlback,
EPMD,
X-101,
Camouflage,
Robert Hood,
Lower 48,
Shuggie Otis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Yellowson,
Subhumans,
Eve St. Jones,
Loose Ends,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
48th St. Collective,
Motorama,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Oneida,
Suicide,
Joensuu 1685,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dirtbombs,
The Real Kids,
Albert Ayler,
The Blues Magoos,
Glenn Branca,
Little Man,
Maurizio,
David McCallum,
Aloha Tigers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Tommy Roe,
Marc Almond,
Deadbeat,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
Bauhaus,
Guru Guru,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vladislav Delay,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Gap Band,
Radiohead,
Sexual Harrassment,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hoover,
Rotary Connection,
Y Pants,
Hardrive,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lightning Bolt,
Clear Light,
Blossom Toes,
Severed Heads,
The Seeds,
Agent Orange,
Matthew Bourne,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.