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 Moldova and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sisters of Mercy to the grime 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
The Blackbyrds,
Malaria!,
Chris & Cosey,
Sonic Youth,
The Fugs,
Lyres,
The Sonics,
Electric Prunes,
The Moody Blues,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stetsasonic,
T. Rex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Human League,
Ultra Naté,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Slick Rick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
U.S. Maple,
Underground Resistance,
The Monks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Scrapy,
Nik Kershaw,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jacques Brel,
The Stooges,
Moebius,
D'Angelo,
The Fall,
Cal Tjader,
The Smoke,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Modern Lovers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sound Behaviour,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Womack,
Slave,
Tears for Fears,
Man Parrish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Parry Music,
John Foxx,
Robert Görl,
Kenny Larkin,
Radio Birdman,
New Order,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Soft Cell,
Kerri Chandler,
The Gories,
Byron Stingily,
Masters at Work,
The Dirtbombs,
Lou Christie,
Maleditus Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.