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 Solomon Islands and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Sound Behaviour to the electroclash 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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monolake,
DNA,
Quantec,
Schoolly D,
K-Klass,
Icehouse,
Hot Snakes,
June of 44,
Can,
Goldenarms,
The Electric Prunes,
Terry Callier,
Dark Day,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Unwound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Steve Hackett,
Scott Walker,
The Grass Roots,
Derrick Morgan,
Delon & Dalcan,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Marine Girls,
Donald Byrd,
Y Pants,
Isaac Hayes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Terrestrial Tones,
Joyce Sims,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Japan,
Nirvana,
The Modern Lovers,
Second Layer,
Angry Samoans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Warsaw,
Rites of Spring,
Jerry's Kids,
Nas,
T. Rex,
The Gladiators,
Organ,
Gang Green,
The Move,
The Evens,
Suburban Knight,
Morten Harket,
48th St. Collective,
The Star Department,
The Black Dice,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eli Mardock,
Public Enemy,
Dave Gahan,
Slave,
Tim Buckley,
Guru Guru,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.