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 Mongolia and from Lagos.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Slits to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Black Pus,
Mark Hollis,
Severed Heads,
Scrapy,
Dave Gahan,
The Cramps,
Aswad,
Al Stewart,
The Electric Prunes,
The Standells,
Grandmaster Flash,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Peter & Gordon,
Symarip,
The Barracudas,
Absolute Body Control,
Joy Division,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Robert Görl,
Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Albert Ayler,
Colin Newman,
Index,
Gabor Szabo,
Rufus Thomas,
Hot Snakes,
Dennis Brown,
CMW,
Simply Red,
T. Rex,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slave,
R.M.O.,
X-102,
Qualms,
Ultra Naté,
The Leaves,
Lou Christie,
Camberwell Now,
Section 25,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jandek,
The Dave Clark Five,
Godley & Creme,
Rekid,
Minor Threat,
Quando Quango,
Spandau Ballet,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantytec,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Ituana,
Reagan Youth,
The Detroit Cobras,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aural Exciters,
Malaria!,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.