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 Poland and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 David Bowie 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Freddie Wadling tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Offenders,
Erasure,
Camberwell Now,
The Gun Club,
The Real Kids,
Second Layer,
Andrew Hill,
Fluxion,
Severed Heads,
The Knickerbockers,
One Last Wish,
Zapp,
Jandek,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marc Almond,
Joyce Sims,
Motorama,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Subhumans,
Flipper,
Neu!,
Arab on Radar,
Toni Rubio,
Yellowson,
Skaos,
Tommy Roe,
Lyres,
Dead Boys,
Urselle,
Josef K,
Mark Hollis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Tomorrow,
The Monks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Parry Music,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gastr Del Sol,
The J.B.'s,
Maleditus Sound,
Intrusion,
Don Cherry,
Franke,
Rapeman,
Mo-Dettes,
Q and Not U,
cv313,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Marine Girls,
Lakeside,
The Durutti Column,
Popol Vuh,
Max Romeo,
Wally Richardson,
Sixth Finger,
Kaleidoscope,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
T. Rex,
Tears for Fears,
Malaria!,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.