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 Indonesia and from Glasgow.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Kenny Larkin to the punk 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 June Days. All the underground hits.
All Sugar Minott tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rod Modell,
Index,
Cymande,
Rites of Spring,
Rufus Thomas,
The Dead C,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Mojo Men,
Byron Stingily,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minor Threat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Rekid,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Anthony Braxton,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
Silicon Teens,
Liliput,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Misunderstood,
Can,
Black Bananas,
Gil Scott Heron,
James White and The Blacks,
Susan Cadogan,
The Music Machine,
Ossler,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Derrick Morgan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Inner City,
The New Christs,
Marine Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Eli Mardock,
Wally Richardson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kayak,
Scratch Acid,
The Sonics,
Chris Corsano,
Peter and Kerry,
The Grass Roots,
Eve St. Jones,
Nico,
Rhythm & Sound,
K-Klass,
Roger Hodgson,
Laurel Aitken,
The Tremeloes,
Skarface,
Q and Not U,
Grandmaster Flash,
Al Stewart,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Warsaw,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.