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 Papua New Guinea and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Hong Kong.
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 mellotron 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Rotary Connection tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Velvet Underground,
Scrapy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Man Eating Sloth,
Television,
Derrick Morgan,
Interpol,
Cecil Taylor,
Accadde A,
Oblivians,
Joy Division,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tim Buckley,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Wells,
Fear,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Smooth,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Seeds,
The Cure,
Alice Coltrane,
Pagans,
New York Dolls,
Magma,
The Fire Engines,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delta 5,
Livin' Joy,
Crispian St. Peters,
Glenn Branca,
Man Parrish,
Sparks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Chrome,
Cybotron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Second Layer,
The Residents,
Idris Muhammad,
Flipper,
T.S.O.L.,
La Düsseldorf,
The Move,
Shoche,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Procol Harum,
Bush Tetras,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Amon Düül,
The Motions,
KRS-One,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
B.T. Express,
Visage,
Country Teasers,
Reagan Youth,
The Techniques,
Kayak,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.