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 Botswana and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Steve Hackett to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Technova. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-101 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
The Pretty Things,
Yaz,
Arthur Verocai,
The Detroit Cobras,
Magazine,
Ossler,
Bobby Sherman,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Seeds,
the Germs,
Siglo XX,
Cybotron,
Pantytec,
Lee Hazlewood,
The United States of America,
Outsiders,
Dawn Penn,
Dennis Brown,
Curtis Mayfield,
David McCallum,
Minutemen,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Barry Ungar,
Fatback Band,
Hoover,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Urselle,
Swans,
Unwound,
Sandy B,
Big Daddy Kane,
Nik Kershaw,
Lou Christie,
Pantaleimon,
Chris Corsano,
Pussy Galore,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Television Personalities,
F. McDonald,
The Barracudas,
Eric B and Rakim,
Terry Callier,
Fela Kuti,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lucky Dragons,
Wire,
Grauzone,
Oblivians,
Thee Headcoats,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Trumans Water,
Joey Negro,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
The Motions,
Parry Music,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Moleskins,
The Human League,
Boredoms,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.