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 Chile and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 snare 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 Dorothy Ashby to the disco 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
The Leaves,
Mo-Dettes,
Scrapy,
Ultra Naté,
B.T. Express,
Dead Boys,
The Fortunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bush Tetras,
Porter Ricks,
Kenny Larkin,
Arab on Radar,
Avey Tare,
Wings,
Urselle,
World's Most,
The Red Krayola,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Skarface,
Livin' Joy,
Deadbeat,
Desert Stars,
The Saints,
Don Cherry,
Cameo,
Joe Smooth,
Letta Mbulu,
The Move,
New Age Steppers,
OOIOO,
Stetsasonic,
The Real Kids,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Mills,
Kerri Chandler,
Cheater Slicks,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thompson Twins,
Absolute Body Control,
Bizarre Inc.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Spoonie Gee,
Scion,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tubeway Army,
The Sonics,
EPMD,
Frankie Knuckles,
Lindisfarne,
The Blackbyrds,
Jeff Lynne,
Sun Ra,
Altered Images,
Tres Demented,
Joyce Sims,
The Standells,
Arcadia,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana, Nirvana.
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.