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 Tonga and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bad Manners to the techno kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arcadia 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Heaven 17,
Banda Bassotti,
Masters at Work,
The Happenings,
Blossom Toes,
Das Ding,
Angry Samoans,
Bobby Byrd,
Ludus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Can,
Jawbox,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Albert Ayler,
Roger Hodgson,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Human League,
Suicide,
Zero Boys,
The Zeros,
Fatback Band,
Bang On A Can,
Connie Case,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harry Pussy,
Davy DMX,
The Count Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bush Tetras,
John Holt,
a-ha,
The Real Kids,
Fluxion,
Ultra Naté,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Yusef Lateef,
New York Dolls,
Ken Boothe,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Wake,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
June Days,
Black Bananas,
The Selecter,
Marc Almond,
The Invisible,
L. Decosne,
Infiniti,
Wally Richardson,
The Doors,
Hashim,
PIL,
ABBA,
La Düsseldorf,
Terrestrial Tones,
Shoche,
Scrapy,
Grey Daturas,
Mark Hollis,
Circle Jerks,
Erasure,
Saccharine Trust,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.