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 Belarus and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tehran.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare 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 Tropical Tobacco to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amon Düül,
Lou Christie,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mad Mike,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Pylon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Wire,
Steve Hackett,
Altered Images,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Almond,
The Tremeloes,
Agent Orange,
H. Thieme,
Parry Music,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Suburban Knight,
The Grass Roots,
John Foxx,
Blancmange,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
Rapeman,
Agitation Free,
Quando Quango,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Desert Stars,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Yusef Lateef,
The Sound,
48th St. Collective,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eddi Front,
The Cowsills,
The Fugs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Gang Green,
Bob Dylan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Deadbeat,
Girls At Our Best!,
The American Breed,
Black Pus,
The Fortunes,
The Skatalites,
Lightning Bolt,
The Dead C,
Khruangbin,
Camberwell Now,
Faraquet,
Simply Red,
JFA,
Fat Boys,
John Coltrane,
Whodini,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kurtis Blow,
Bang On A Can,
Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama, Pulsallama.
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.