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 Qatar and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minny Pops to the rap 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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Divine Comedy,
Technova,
Loose Ends,
Underground Resistance,
The Stooges,
Bill Wells,
Country Teasers,
Jimmy McGriff,
Accadde A,
Masters at Work,
Eden Ahbez,
Bang On A Can,
Judy Mowatt,
Boogie Down Productions,
Faust,
Surgeon,
Minny Pops,
Deadbeat,
Kaleidoscope,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Angry Samoans,
cv313,
Black Pus,
Josef K,
Kayak,
Bob Dylan,
Gregory Isaacs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiohead,
New York Dolls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Red Krayola,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Royal Trux,
Warsaw,
Ultravox,
a-ha,
Jeff Lynne,
X-101,
Altered Images,
Slave,
The Cowsills,
Matthew Halsall,
Black Bananas,
Archie Shepp,
Drexciya,
June of 44,
Bush Tetras,
Young Marble Giants,
Wire,
The Slits,
Lindisfarne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Moleskins,
Alton Ellis,
Dual Sessions,
the Normal,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Victims,
The Cramps,
Oneida,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.