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 Equatorial Guinea and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar 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 Misunderstood 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 Camberwell Now. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mission of Burma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Average White Band,
the Swans,
Moss Icon,
The Seeds,
Sonic Youth,
Marvin Gaye,
Kevin Saunderson,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Harry Pussy,
Clear Light,
Slave,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pylon,
Alphaville,
The Blues Magoos,
John Foxx,
Camberwell Now,
Shoche,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Maurizio,
Ice-T,
Amon Düül II,
Angry Samoans,
Fad Gadget,
Rod Modell,
The Motions,
Trumans Water,
Barry Ungar,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fear,
Index,
Buzzcocks,
Gang Starr,
Alison Limerick,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nick Fraelich,
Metal Thangz,
Warsaw,
Reagan Youth,
Mr. Review,
Malaria!,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Barracudas,
Al Stewart,
Smog,
Saccharine Trust,
Eric Dolphy,
World's Most,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blossom Toes,
The Residents,
Funky Four + One,
Jimmy McGriff,
Arab on Radar,
The Victims,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
John Holt,
The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch Band, The Chocolate Watch 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.