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 Tunisia and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 KRS-One to the electroclash 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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Electric Prunes,
Television,
Marine Girls,
Scott Walker,
The Walker Brothers,
Bauhaus,
The Dead C,
Technova,
Steve Hackett,
Gichy Dan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Smog,
Liliput,
Aaron Thompson,
Masters at Work,
Jeru the Damaja,
Wolf Eyes,
China Crisis,
The Techniques,
Loose Ends,
Susan Cadogan,
Eddi Front,
Fluxion,
The Music Machine,
Young Marble Giants,
David Axelrod,
The Searchers,
Yellowson,
The Mojo Men,
The Busters,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Cure,
Intrusion,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Max Romeo,
Jacques Brel,
Slick Rick,
Livin' Joy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nik Kershaw,
the Normal,
Youth Brigade,
Q65,
Harry Pussy,
Dead Boys,
The Alarm Clocks,
Can,
Suburban Knight,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Index,
The Grass Roots,
Sex Pistols,
Alphaville,
Blossom Toes,
Fad Gadget,
The Martian,
Eve St. Jones,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios, Los Fastidios.
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.