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 Somalia and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum 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 Pere Ubu to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Essential Logic,
Ituana,
Blancmange,
The Fall,
Robert Görl,
Ohio Players,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Altered Images,
the Slits,
Arab on Radar,
Nik Kershaw,
Barclay James Harvest,
Letta Mbulu,
The Sound,
This Heat,
Bauhaus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Brick,
E-Dancer,
Jerry's Kids,
Roy Ayers,
Tim Buckley,
Laurel Aitken,
The Dirtbombs,
Scott Walker,
Flamin' Groovies,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Franke,
Hashim,
Alison Limerick,
Gong,
Godley & Creme,
The Vogues,
Fat Boys,
Tres Demented,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Schoolly D,
Theoretical Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
Livin' Joy,
Gastr Del Sol,
Reagan Youth,
Cameo,
Unrelated Segments,
Roxette,
The Slackers,
Kas Product,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mojo Men,
Jandek,
The Gun Club,
Magazine,
Monolake,
World's Most,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Parry Music,
Grauzone,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.