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 Namibia and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the dance 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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All The Cramps tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone 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?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Suicide,
Matthew Bourne,
Arab on Radar,
One Last Wish,
Bootsy Collins,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Albert Ayler,
Arcadia,
Funky Four + One,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eden Ahbez,
Khruangbin,
Skriet,
Joy Division,
Jandek,
A Certain Ratio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Can,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Guru Guru,
John Holt,
AZ,
Lungfish,
Jerry's Kids,
The Black Dice,
The Gun Club,
Moebius,
Lou Christie,
The Cowsills,
Joe Finger,
Minny Pops,
The Fire Engines,
Barclay James Harvest,
Moss Icon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Zapp,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mo-Dettes,
Index,
Crooked Eye,
The Golliwogs,
The Fortunes,
Basic Channel,
Accadde A,
Model 500,
Scrapy,
Dead Boys,
Niagra,
Drive Like Jehu,
The American Breed,
John Lydon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Blues Magoos,
Lou Reed,
The Gories,
The Divine Comedy,
Bang On A Can,
Swans,
Bronski Beat,
Qualms,
The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks, The Kinks.
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.