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 Laos and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 arpeggiator 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 8 Eyed Spy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Todd Rundgren. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Kurtis Blow,
H. Thieme,
Sister Nancy,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Minor Threat,
The Detroit Cobras,
Lakeside,
Patti Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
PIL,
Gang of Four,
Tim Buckley,
Fluxion,
The Fuzztones,
The Smoke,
Soulsonic Force,
Funkadelic,
Soft Machine,
CMW,
Agent Orange,
Minny Pops,
Max Romeo,
Albert Ayler,
June of 44,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Duran Duran,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Last Poets,
Rakim,
The Electric Prunes,
Barrington Levy,
Groovy Waters,
Dead Boys,
Rekid,
The Saints,
Sällskapet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scan 7,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Durutti Column,
The Beau Brummels,
Kaleidoscope,
MC5,
48th St. Collective,
8 Eyed Spy,
Joe Finger,
Fad Gadget,
Grandmaster Flash,
UT,
Bluetip,
Crooked Eye,
Bill Near,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bauhaus,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish, Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish.
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.