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 Saudi Arabia and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 Aloha Tigers to the grime 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Monks,
Graham Central Station,
Freddie Wadling,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Theoretical Girls,
Das Ding,
Man Parrish,
New York Dolls,
Nico,
The Mummies,
X-Ray Spex,
Peter & Gordon,
Roy Ayers,
Arab on Radar,
Depeche Mode,
Blake Baxter,
Ken Boothe,
Fatback Band,
Loose Ends,
Amon Düül II,
The Gun Club,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jandek,
Al Stewart,
D'Angelo,
the Bar-Kays,
Brick,
Ornette Coleman,
Bill Wells,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Davy DMX,
The Raincoats,
The Slackers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Hood,
Scan 7,
The Names,
The Modern Lovers,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Juan Atkins,
Michelle Simonal,
kango's stein massive,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Monks,
World's Most,
Outsiders,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Faraquet,
The Moleskins,
Magazine,
Crime,
Aural Exciters,
Warsaw,
Glenn Branca,
Hot Snakes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Agitation Free,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap, Gary Puckett & The Union Gap.
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.