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 Croatia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Durutti Column to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Audionom,
Half Japanese,
Ossler,
Mr. Review,
Easy Going,
Monks,
The Mummies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Silicon Teens,
Wolf Eyes,
Eli Mardock,
Donald Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
Sexual Harrassment,
Guru Guru,
The Litter,
Saccharine Trust,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Cameo,
The Five Americans,
Pere Ubu,
Pussy Galore,
Man Parrish,
X-101,
The American Breed,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aural Exciters,
The Slackers,
John Lydon,
Brick,
Goldenarms,
Outsiders,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Standells,
Junior Murvin,
Fatback Band,
Deepchord,
Harmonia,
Sandy B,
Q65,
Marc Almond,
Scott Walker,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Faraquet,
DNA,
Accadde A,
Danielle Patucci,
Alton Ellis,
Animal Collective,
The Tremeloes,
Porter Ricks,
Dead Boys,
World's Most,
Royal Trux,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lindisfarne,
Interpol,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.