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 Korea North and from Mexico City.
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 Manchester and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bar-Kays to the grunge 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Larry & the Blue Notes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lakeside,
The Litter,
Bobby Sherman,
Iggy Pop,
Porter Ricks,
the Slits,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ken Boothe,
Rufus Thomas,
the Soft Cell,
Dave Gahan,
Section 25,
Lalann,
Camberwell Now,
Wings,
Maurizio,
Little Man,
Intrusion,
Vainqueur,
Flamin' Groovies,
R.M.O.,
Warsaw,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Misunderstood,
Neil Young,
D'Angelo,
Soulsonic Force,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Pop Group,
Animal Collective,
Byron Stingily,
The Fugs,
Minnie Riperton,
Gerry Rafferty,
Cal Tjader,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lucky Dragons,
The United States of America,
Basic Channel,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Nico,
The Wake,
Goldenarms,
The Smoke,
Pantaleimon,
Mission of Burma,
Dennis Brown,
Barrington Levy,
Cluster,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Selecter,
Scrapy,
Hardrive,
Curtis Mayfield,
Jacques Brel,
The Black Dice,
The Doors,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.