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 Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Al Stewart to the disco 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 One Last Wish. All the underground hits.
All Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a UT record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
the Slits,
This Heat,
Bizarre Inc.,
cv313,
Gang of Four,
Barrington Levy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sexual Harrassment,
Flash Fearless,
Index,
Clear Light,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Osbourne,
Alice Coltrane,
Joe Smooth,
Black Bananas,
8 Eyed Spy,
New Age Steppers,
Lindisfarne,
Inner City,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mandrill,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sam Rivers,
Sparks,
The Kinks,
The Barracudas,
Unwound,
Althea and Donna,
Jandek,
Iggy Pop,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Agitation Free,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Schoolly D,
Sex Pistols,
Rotary Connection,
Bob Dylan,
Animal Collective,
Harpers Bizarre,
Janne Schatter,
Bluetip,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hardrive,
Severed Heads,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kurtis Blow,
Fad Gadget,
Prince Buster,
Laurel Aitken,
The Litter,
Bang On A Can,
Roxette,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
June Days,
Gang Starr,
Cheater Slicks,
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.