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 Malawi and from Woodstock.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Barrington Levy to the punk 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mission of Burma,
The Sonics,
Deadbeat,
Al Stewart,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Can,
Cheater Slicks,
Eden Ahbez,
Make Up,
Nico,
Ten City,
Ponytail,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Charles Mingus,
Sandy B,
Eric Copeland,
The Remains,
Altered Images,
Roxette,
Pussy Galore,
Section 25,
DJ Sneak,
Boz Scaggs,
the Swans,
The Fall,
Junior Murvin,
Los Fastidios,
The Shadows of Knight,
Von Mondo,
Magazine,
the Normal,
Jacques Brel,
10cc,
The Evens,
Theoretical Girls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ronan,
The Slits,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pierre Henry,
Roy Ayers,
Grey Daturas,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
B.T. Express,
Thee Headcoats,
The Vogues,
Moebius,
X-101,
Eve St. Jones,
Aural Exciters,
Danielle Patucci,
Royal Trux,
Ultra Naté,
Monolake,
Television,
Jerry's Kids,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.