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 Singapore and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Lucky Dragons to the crunk 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nico record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Severed Heads,
Basic Channel,
Alice Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Mantronix,
The Beau Brummels,
The Stooges,
Barbara Tucker,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pole,
the Germs,
Porter Ricks,
Sandy B,
Kayak,
Nils Olav,
Animal Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Fela Kuti,
Deepchord,
Sex Pistols,
Connie Case,
Warsaw,
ABBA,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Spandau Ballet,
Black Bananas,
Sun City Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Invisible,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ponytail,
Susan Cadogan,
Flamin' Groovies,
Henry Cow,
Alison Limerick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dead Boys,
Minutemen,
Rod Modell,
Groovy Waters,
Throbbing Gristle,
Q and Not U,
Patti Smith,
Subhumans,
The Gap Band,
The Kinks,
Clear Light,
Terry Callier,
L. Decosne,
Cheater Slicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cowsills,
Little Man,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Eating Sloth,
Second Layer,
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.