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 the UAE and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and New York.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the organ 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 Stockholm Monsters to the disco 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 Nas. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Schoolly D record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Judy Mowatt,
Agitation Free,
Tomorrow,
Jeff Mills,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sex Pistols,
Simply Red,
Eden Ahbez,
The Smoke,
Gerry Rafferty,
Supertramp,
the Swans,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Television,
David McCallum,
Alice Coltrane,
Wire,
Skriet,
Procol Harum,
Bob Dylan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Mummies,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bobby Sherman,
Freddie Wadling,
Aloha Tigers,
Kurtis Blow,
Minnie Riperton,
Charles Mingus,
Technova,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
The Litter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Qualms,
Panda Bear,
Bad Manners,
Reagan Youth,
Prince Buster,
The Buckinghams,
Symarip,
Absolute Body Control,
Q and Not U,
Siglo XX,
Soft Machine,
Maurizio,
Kerri Chandler,
Albert Ayler,
Zapp,
Amon Düül,
Echospace,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fall,
Porter Ricks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Byron Stingily,
The Gories,
Grauzone,
John Holt,
Jacob Miller,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.