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 Armenia and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Flamin' Groovies to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radiopuhelimet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Al Stewart record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
The Saints,
Derrick May,
The Names,
Vladislav Delay,
Heaven 17,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Red Krayola,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Don Cherry,
Lyres,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Roy Ayers,
New York Dolls,
Crash Course in Science,
Q65,
The Monochrome Set,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Wasted Youth,
Cluster,
The Barracudas,
Goldenarms,
The Angels of Light,
Porter Ricks,
Ludus,
Fatback Band,
H. Thieme,
Stiv Bators,
Oneida,
Minutemen,
Laurel Aitken,
Mark Hollis,
Rod Modell,
Panda Bear,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Yusef Lateef,
B.T. Express,
Warren Ellis,
Jeff Lynne,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Bourne,
The Wake,
Cameo,
Davy DMX,
Dead Boys,
The Five Americans,
Wolf Eyes,
Motorama,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Zeros,
Nico,
The Tremeloes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Martian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.