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 Tanzania and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
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 guitar 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 Todd Rundgren to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sound Behaviour,
Black Bananas,
Fear,
48th St. Collective,
The Knickerbockers,
Tomorrow,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Music Machine,
Aswad,
The Smoke,
Lightning Bolt,
Chris Corsano,
Marvin Gaye,
This Heat,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gories,
Hoover,
Rosa Yemen,
Sonic Youth,
Television,
Maleditus Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Ralphi Rosario,
kango's stein massive,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Slick Rick,
Cybotron,
Pantaleimon,
Spoonie Gee,
Boredoms,
Letta Mbulu,
The Stooges,
Magma,
Marine Girls,
The Durutti Column,
Scan 7,
Dual Sessions,
Metal Thangz,
Rakim,
Second Layer,
Magazine,
Arthur Verocai,
Rapeman,
Kerri Chandler,
DNA,
The Star Department,
The Electric Prunes,
Wire,
Surgeon,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Harry Pussy,
Nick Fraelich,
John Lydon,
Don Cherry,
L. Decosne,
The J.B.'s,
Warren Ellis,
The Trojans,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.