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 Czech Republic and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar 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 Nick Fraelich to the punk 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonny Sharrock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Guru Guru,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Normal,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Masters at Work,
The Moody Blues,
Throbbing Gristle,
Panda Bear,
cv313,
Kas Product,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shoche,
The Fugs,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nick Fraelich,
UT,
Tears for Fears,
Blake Baxter,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
the Swans,
The Monochrome Set,
Warsaw,
La Düsseldorf,
Rosa Yemen,
Ossler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Index,
Banda Bassotti,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Sonics,
Television,
Animal Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Tremeloes,
Bush Tetras,
Oneida,
Minnie Riperton,
Wasted Youth,
Terry Callier,
L. Decosne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Divine Comedy,
Talk Talk,
Intrusion,
AZ,
The Music Machine,
Monolake,
the Soft Cell,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Procol Harum,
Kevin Saunderson,
Depeche Mode,
Soul II Soul,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dave Gahan,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Agitation Free,
Electric Prunes,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.