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 Guinea-Bissau and from Copenhagen.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Alison Limerick to the grunge 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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Mary Jane Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Josef K record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb 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 rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Fluxion,
These Immortal Souls,
Suicide,
Duran Duran,
H. Thieme,
X-102,
Audionom,
Jeff Lynne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Gladiators,
Theoretical Girls,
Icehouse,
Magma,
Danielle Patucci,
Young Marble Giants,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Hashim,
Godley & Creme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sixth Finger,
Metal Thangz,
The Dirtbombs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Robert Hood,
Tres Demented,
Oneida,
Juan Atkins,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
ABC,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
FM Einheit,
Harry Pussy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Swell Maps,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Blues Magoos,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Index,
Inner City,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yusef Lateef,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stereo Dub,
The Modern Lovers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Holt,
Brick,
The Offenders,
Pere Ubu,
Supertramp,
EPMD,
Yaz,
Bad Manners,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Move,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Pretty Things,
Mandrill,
Tommy Roe,
Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe, Ajijia Myrayebe.
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.