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 Ireland and from Taipei.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lucky Dragons 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 Kevin Saunderson. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erasure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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 Angels of Light,
Quando Quango,
Rekid,
Cameo,
Max Romeo,
K-Klass,
Khruangbin,
Ossler,
Reagan Youth,
Goldenarms,
Ken Boothe,
Iggy Pop,
Skriet,
Television,
Agent Orange,
X-101,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ice-T,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Electric Prunes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Cecil Taylor,
Fear,
Scientists,
Minutemen,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Prince Buster,
Marine Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Beau Brummels,
Nation of Ulysses,
Deepchord,
Reuben Wilson,
Peter and Kerry,
Hot Snakes,
Jerry's Kids,
The Slackers,
Chris & Cosey,
Minny Pops,
Harmonia,
The Mummies,
Magazine,
Fluxion,
The Searchers,
Kenny Larkin,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Pantytec,
New York Dolls,
Jandek,
Guru Guru,
David McCallum,
Rod Modell,
Cluster,
Simply Red,
Althea and Donna,
The Velvet Underground,
Colin Newman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bronski Beat,
Smog,
Country Teasers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Pretty Things,
Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX, Davy DMX.
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.