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 Dominica and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 guitar 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 Pantaleimon to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Slave,
Subhumans,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flash Fearless,
Talk Talk,
Freddie Wadling,
Duran Duran,
Soft Machine,
Nik Kershaw,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joy Division,
Icehouse,
The Searchers,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Godley & Creme,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Last Poets,
Cluster,
Marmalade,
Section 25,
U.S. Maple,
Lower 48,
Excepter,
The Leaves,
Ronan,
F. McDonald,
Ten City,
Charles Mingus,
Wings,
Roy Ayers,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
Tears for Fears,
Cal Tjader,
Amon Düül II,
Lucky Dragons,
Scion,
The Vogues,
The Move,
Malaria!,
T.S.O.L.,
Index,
Mad Mike,
DJ Sneak,
The Seeds,
Sandy B,
Minny Pops,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Eden Ahbez,
Popol Vuh,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fortunes,
Simply Red,
Youth Brigade,
Ultravox,
Shuggie Otis,
Dorothy Ashby,
Gregory Isaacs,
Josef K,
James White and The Blacks,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.