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 Brunei and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 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 Jeff Lynne to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Tears for Fears tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
Whodini,
Andrew Hill,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Erasure,
the Slits,
Subhumans,
Trumans Water,
Second Layer,
Grey Daturas,
Sugar Minott,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Smiths,
The Tremeloes,
Mad Mike,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Skatalites,
Roxette,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
John Coltrane,
Mr. Review,
China Crisis,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Panda Bear,
The Offenders,
Barry Ungar,
Stereo Dub,
Angry Samoans,
Blancmange,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Alison Limerick,
Sun Ra,
Joe Finger,
Scientists,
The New Christs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Dave Gahan,
Dorothy Ashby,
Porter Ricks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
The Residents,
Duran Duran,
Arab on Radar,
The Dave Clark Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Nas,
X-102,
Masters at Work,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Index,
Khruangbin,
Black Bananas,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kas Product,
Deadbeat,
Junior Murvin,
Youth Brigade,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.