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 Maldives and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
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 Lyres to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sisters of Mercy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Albert Ayler,
In Retrospect,
Aaron Thompson,
Warren Ellis,
Swell Maps,
Sun City Girls,
Pylon,
Rhythm & Sound,
Liliput,
Susan Cadogan,
Slave,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Ronan,
a-ha,
Procol Harum,
Ludus,
The Gap Band,
Cluster,
John Coltrane,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
This Heat,
The Sound,
Joy Division,
Smog,
Inner City,
Fatback Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arab on Radar,
Barclay James Harvest,
China Crisis,
Audionom,
The Pretty Things,
Popol Vuh,
Reagan Youth,
the Sonics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Blues Magoos,
Livin' Joy,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Beau Brummels,
Jacques Brel,
The Misunderstood,
Brothers Johnson,
Wire,
U.S. Maple,
Roxy Music,
Terrestrial Tones,
Niagra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ice-T,
Darondo,
Radiohead,
Kerri Chandler,
Khruangbin,
Monks,
Black Sheep,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Charles Mingus,
Rakim,
Mr. Review,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.