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 Syria and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 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 The Dead C to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All Dawn Penn tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sällskapet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
Skarface,
The Sonics,
Goldenarms,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fatback Band,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marshall Jefferson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
PIL,
The Raincoats,
Wasted Youth,
The Fire Engines,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Monochrome Set,
Glenn Branca,
Pulsallama,
Blake Baxter,
Johnny Osbourne,
DJ Style,
Arcadia,
D'Angelo,
The Invisible,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
8 Eyed Spy,
Agitation Free,
The Knickerbockers,
Japan,
Morten Harket,
The American Breed,
Make Up,
New Age Steppers,
E-Dancer,
The Real Kids,
Hashim,
The Gun Club,
Swans,
Saccharine Trust,
Buzzcocks,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jandek,
The Standells,
Janne Schatter,
Ken Boothe,
Accadde A,
The Residents,
Nick Fraelich,
The Beau Brummels,
Marine Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Reagan Youth,
The Offenders,
B.T. Express,
Ossler,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Dennis Brown,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.