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 Latvia and from Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 E-Dancer to the funk 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 Heaven 17. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ponytail,
Junior Murvin,
Brick,
Dual Sessions,
Warsaw,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fall,
The Dave Clark Five,
Freddie Wadling,
Harmonia,
The Victims,
Kaleidoscope,
Brand Nubian,
Rotary Connection,
Gang of Four,
The Fire Engines,
Chris & Cosey,
The Tremeloes,
Absolute Body Control,
Don Cherry,
Aloha Tigers,
Cheater Slicks,
Youth Brigade,
B.T. Express,
Sarah Menescal,
Rod Modell,
Gabor Szabo,
Crime,
Jerry's Kids,
Skarface,
Lindisfarne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sight & Sound,
Black Flag,
Arab on Radar,
Neu!,
Goldenarms,
June Days,
Avey Tare,
The United States of America,
Electric Prunes,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ten City,
The Motions,
Connie Case,
Pylon,
The Walker Brothers,
Masters at Work,
Sixth Finger,
Supertramp,
Delta 5,
Danielle Patucci,
Pagans,
Amon Düül II,
New Age Steppers,
David McCallum,
Jacob Miller,
Monks,
Lou Christie,
Average White Band,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.