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 Honduras and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 David Bowie to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Deadbeat,
Gil Scott Heron,
the Germs,
Todd Rundgren,
The Five Americans,
The Busters,
Marmalade,
Byron Stingily,
The Angels of Light,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Association,
Gabor Szabo,
The Names,
Drexciya,
The Birthday Party,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Japan,
Sandy B,
The Music Machine,
Crime,
The Leaves,
Television,
Tommy Roe,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Bad Manners,
Depeche Mode,
Al Stewart,
Underground Resistance,
Rosa Yemen,
Niagra,
Nas,
JFA,
The Evens,
CMW,
Cameo,
The Blues Magoos,
Bauhaus,
Country Teasers,
Talk Talk,
Gichy Dan,
Throbbing Gristle,
John Lydon,
EPMD,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Public Enemy,
Grauzone,
Quando Quango,
Rites of Spring,
Sex Pistols,
Wire,
Pole,
Section 25,
The Motions,
The Move,
Anakelly,
Bizarre Inc.,
Monks,
The Associates,
The Dirtbombs,
Judy Mowatt,
Yellowson,
Icehouse,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.