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 El Salvador and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 linndrum 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 The Dead C to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Toni Rubio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roxy Music 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Vogues,
Faust,
The Victims,
MC5,
The Selecter,
Vladislav Delay,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bauhaus,
Amon Düül II,
The American Breed,
The Cure,
The Modern Lovers,
Jeff Mills,
Arcadia,
Black Pus,
Radio Birdman,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Godley & Creme,
Liliput,
Kool Moe Dee,
JFA,
Oblivians,
La Düsseldorf,
Eric B and Rakim,
Yazoo,
Matthew Halsall,
Johnny Osbourne,
Josef K,
Patti Smith,
Amazonics,
The Mummies,
Rotary Connection,
Thompson Twins,
Neil Young,
Throbbing Gristle,
Marshall Jefferson,
Desert Stars,
Archie Shepp,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fortunes,
The Trojans,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lalann,
The Leaves,
Terry Callier,
Groovy Waters,
Eve St. Jones,
Bad Manners,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
Suicide,
Pussy Galore,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bluetip,
Laurel Aitken,
Jawbox,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.