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 Finland and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ 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 The American Breed to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The New Christs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kayak,
Sällskapet,
Man Parrish,
Talk Talk,
Bush Tetras,
MDC,
The Motions,
Harmonia,
Reuben Wilson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slackers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pantaleimon,
The Flesh Eaters,
Stiv Bators,
Yazoo,
T. Rex,
Swell Maps,
The Monochrome Set,
Ronnie Foster,
Patti Smith,
Joey Negro,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Angry Samoans,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Deadbeat,
Warren Ellis,
Ultravox,
Amon Düül,
John Cale,
Marine Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Scott Walker,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Sound,
Loose Ends,
Avey Tare,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Iggy Pop,
Marc Almond,
Tres Demented,
The United States of America,
Unrelated Segments,
Joy Division,
Agent Orange,
Alice Coltrane,
June of 44,
Scion,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DJ Sneak,
Junior Murvin,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Black Pus,
John Holt,
The Golliwogs,
Maurizio,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ohio Players,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.