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 Malta and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Minutemen to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Steve Hackett,
Henry Cow,
Boredoms,
Y Pants,
Marshall Jefferson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Patti Smith,
Masters at Work,
Procol Harum,
The American Breed,
Infiniti,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Reed,
Magazine,
The Raincoats,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Althea and Donna,
Dawn Penn,
Alton Ellis,
8 Eyed Spy,
Hot Snakes,
Darondo,
Anakelly,
Massinfluence,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Surgeon,
Albert Ayler,
Circle Jerks,
Easy Going,
Tommy Roe,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Birthday Party,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jacques Brel,
Marc Almond,
The Blues Magoos,
Mo-Dettes,
Chrome,
The Doors,
Todd Rundgren,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Angels of Light,
Rufus Thomas,
Little Man,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Tubeway Army,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Real Kids,
Radiopuhelimet,
Panda Bear,
The Young Rascals,
Pulsallama,
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
U.S. Maple,
KRS-One,
Fad Gadget,
La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf, La Düsseldorf.
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.