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 Botswana and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the disco 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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
the Normal,
The Stooges,
Liliput,
UT,
Kayak,
Motorama,
Japan,
Peter & Gordon,
Brothers Johnson,
Main Source,
The Moleskins,
The Gladiators,
Wolf Eyes,
The Offenders,
Pulsallama,
Gichy Dan,
Bootsy Collins,
Metal Thangz,
Popol Vuh,
Can,
Robert Wyatt,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Electric Prunes,
Chrome,
Kerri Chandler,
Scion,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Avey Tare,
The Pop Group,
Icehouse,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The American Breed,
Black Bananas,
The Monochrome Set,
Jeff Lynne,
Suicide,
David Bowie,
Pole,
Angry Samoans,
Deadbeat,
Todd Rundgren,
Bush Tetras,
10cc,
The Smiths,
Rhythm & Sound,
Sixth Finger,
The Mojo Men,
Sonic Youth,
Blake Baxter,
Monolake,
Amon Düül,
The Associates,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Cale,
Warren Ellis,
Parry Music,
Quando Quango,
Albert Ayler,
Unwound,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.