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 France and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manchester.
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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tropical Tobacco to the funk 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam. All the underground hits.
All Funky Four + One tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Remains,
Chris Corsano,
Mandrill,
Model 500,
Rufus Thomas,
a-ha,
Jeff Mills,
The Beau Brummels,
Wasted Youth,
Interpol,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Symarip,
Shuggie Otis,
Kayak,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Supertramp,
the Normal,
Amon Düül,
Bobby Sherman,
The Star Department,
Swell Maps,
Vladislav Delay,
Rotary Connection,
Minor Threat,
Stiv Bators,
Sugar Minott,
Eric Dolphy,
Spoonie Gee,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bluetip,
Kas Product,
The Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Urselle,
Steve Hackett,
Country Teasers,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eli Mardock,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neil Young,
Hardrive,
Stetsasonic,
Goldenarms,
Excepter,
Neu!,
Soul II Soul,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Freddie Wadling,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Music Machine,
New York Dolls,
The Fire Engines,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DNA,
John Holt,
Black Flag,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marvin Gaye,
David Bowie,
Fela Kuti,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.