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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet 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 Icehouse to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Dual Sessions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy Collins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Names,
Althea and Donna,
Junior Murvin,
Minny Pops,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cameo,
Mandrill,
Rufus Thomas,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Smoke,
Lou Christie,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Mojo Men,
The Smiths,
Basic Channel,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Theoretical Girls,
Black Bananas,
The Knickerbockers,
Pet Shop Boys,
John Holt,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cecil Taylor,
The Blackbyrds,
Aloha Tigers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sam Rivers,
Swell Maps,
Camberwell Now,
The Slits,
China Crisis,
E-Dancer,
Circle Jerks,
Flamin' Groovies,
Josef K,
Soul II Soul,
New York Dolls,
Man Parrish,
The Fall,
Fela Kuti,
The Real Kids,
Letta Mbulu,
The Litter,
Ludus,
Tim Buckley,
Popol Vuh,
Buzzcocks,
The Walker Brothers,
A Certain Ratio,
X-102,
Masters at Work,
Roxy Music,
Throbbing Gristle,
New Order,
Angry Samoans,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Wire,
Bluetip,
Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape, Moby Grape.
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.