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 Belize and from Cairo.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the snare 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 Goldenarms to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Panda Bear,
The Doors,
The Saints,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Clear Light,
the Normal,
The Detroit Cobras,
Iggy Pop,
Roy Ayers,
Bush Tetras,
The Star Department,
Aural Exciters,
Alison Limerick,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dead C,
EPMD,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Absolute Body Control,
Nirvana,
The Fortunes,
Can,
Audionom,
10cc,
Spandau Ballet,
Roxette,
The Real Kids,
Bad Manners,
The Fall,
Max Romeo,
Derrick May,
The Gories,
Gil Scott Heron,
Swell Maps,
The United States of America,
Rhythm & Sound,
Crash Course in Science,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Residents,
Accadde A,
Half Japanese,
Little Man,
Alphaville,
The Searchers,
Erykah Badu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sister Nancy,
Procol Harum,
Porter Ricks,
Rosa Yemen,
Tom Boy,
Ken Boothe,
Sällskapet,
Donny Hathaway,
Hardrive,
The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs, The Golliwogs.
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.