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 Iceland and from Mumbai.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Deepchord to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious Big And Bone Thugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Robert Hood,
Aaron Thompson,
Rapeman,
The Black Dice,
The United States of America,
the Association,
Japan,
The Motions,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Negative Approach,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Barclay James Harvest,
Reagan Youth,
Royal Trux,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tres Demented,
Eddi Front,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Pantaleimon,
Young Marble Giants,
Wire,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Ronan,
Drexciya,
John Coltrane,
Swell Maps,
48th St. Collective,
Shoche,
The Smiths,
Unwound,
Alphaville,
The Standells,
Average White Band,
Fluxion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scratch Acid,
Chrome,
Guru Guru,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Juan Atkins,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Masters at Work,
The Neon Judgement,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Womack,
Joensuu 1685,
The Velvet Underground,
Sällskapet,
The Kinks,
Absolute Body Control,
La Düsseldorf,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Mummies,
Spandau Ballet,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Buckinghams,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.