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 Honduras and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Dirtbombs to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
The Remains,
Anthony Braxton,
New Order,
Jimmy McGriff,
Boredoms,
Niagra,
Morten Harket,
the Sonics,
Albert Ayler,
The Buckinghams,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy Collins,
The Fugs,
Frankie Knuckles,
Marmalade,
Intrusion,
Ossler,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Derrick May,
The Motions,
Duran Duran,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rotary Connection,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Loose Ends,
David McCallum,
Nick Fraelich,
Gang Starr,
The Slits,
Joe Smooth,
Janne Schatter,
Sexual Harrassment,
K-Klass,
Judy Mowatt,
Pylon,
Amazonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barclay James Harvest,
China Crisis,
Steve Hackett,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Skarface,
The Saints,
the Soft Cell,
The Durutti Column,
Ken Boothe,
Neil Young,
Cybotron,
The Litter,
The Gladiators,
Lou Reed,
48th St. Collective,
Fear,
Jacob Miller,
Alice Coltrane,
Tommy Roe,
Can,
Tom Boy,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.