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 Pakistan and from Copenhagen.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Los Fastidios to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Arcadia,
The Techniques,
Agent Orange,
The Smiths,
Roxette,
June Days,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sex Pistols,
The Detroit Cobras,
Can,
Tomorrow,
The Blackbyrds,
John Cale,
Terry Callier,
Ultravox,
Pole,
the Normal,
Hoover,
Chris Corsano,
Stetsasonic,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mandrill,
Derrick May,
Oneida,
Jeff Lynne,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
This Heat,
Bobby Byrd,
K-Klass,
Cymande,
Rod Modell,
X-Ray Spex,
The Trojans,
Yusef Lateef,
Jawbox,
Pere Ubu,
Newcleus,
Archie Shepp,
Underground Resistance,
Marmalade,
The Kinks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Dark Day,
Trumans Water,
Sound Behaviour,
Scan 7,
Qualms,
Barry Ungar,
L. Decosne,
Excepter,
Junior Murvin,
Derrick Morgan,
Carl Craig,
The Martian,
Prince Buster,
The Motions,
Gang of Four,
Model 500,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.