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 Mozambique and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Bob Dylan to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ultramagnetic MC's. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every CMW 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Byron Stingily,
Swans,
Yellowson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sixth Finger,
The Victims,
Simply Red,
John Lydon,
Lakeside,
A Certain Ratio,
Delta 5,
Suburban Knight,
Josef K,
Joyce Sims,
Henry Cow,
Oneida,
The Electric Prunes,
The Angels of Light,
Tropical Tobacco,
Skarface,
Excepter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Qualms,
Soulsonic Force,
Siglo XX,
Roxy Music,
The Fortunes,
Second Layer,
Sex Pistols,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The J.B.'s,
Max Romeo,
Neil Young,
Desert Stars,
Mo-Dettes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Circle Jerks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mark Hollis,
Unrelated Segments,
Dorothy Ashby,
Monks,
48th St. Collective,
Stereo Dub,
Los Fastidios,
X-Ray Spex,
David McCallum,
Quando Quango,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eli Mardock,
Index,
Godley & Creme,
The Gories,
the Germs,
Stockholm Monsters,
Roxette,
Aural Exciters,
Deepchord,
June of 44,
Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti, Banda Bassotti.
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.