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 Rwanda and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bobby Byrd to the dance 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Guru Guru record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
The Litter,
Pagans,
Bobby Sherman,
The Sound,
Mr. Review,
Hoover,
Scott Walker,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moody Blues,
Joyce Sims,
The Electric Prunes,
Laurel Aitken,
48th St. Collective,
Stetsasonic,
Zero Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Chris Corsano,
Shuggie Otis,
Steve Hackett,
Tim Buckley,
the Association,
Roxette,
Marine Girls,
The Names,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
This Heat,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Quando Quango,
Agent Orange,
Deakin,
Motorama,
Pet Shop Boys,
Porter Ricks,
Wolf Eyes,
Minny Pops,
Livin' Joy,
Ken Boothe,
Skriet,
Section 25,
The Dave Clark Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scan 7,
Magma,
Parry Music,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nick Fraelich,
LL Cool J,
China Crisis,
The Misunderstood,
Crispy Ambulance,
Oblivians,
Pierre Henry,
Sonic Youth,
Flash Fearless,
Sight & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
The Birthday Party,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bush Tetras,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.