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 Denmark and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 güiro 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the electroclash 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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Masters at Work tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Birthday Party record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Lebanon Hanover,
Eve St. Jones,
Bronski Beat,
Skarface,
Eric Copeland,
Newcleus,
Schoolly D,
The Motions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Yellowson,
The Associates,
Suburban Knight,
Bizarre Inc.,
Todd Rundgren,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Danielle Patucci,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rosa Yemen,
Niagra,
Suicide,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Television Personalities,
the Fania All-Stars,
K-Klass,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fugs,
Rekid,
Marc Almond,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sight & Sound,
New Age Steppers,
The J.B.'s,
Slick Rick,
Mandrill,
The Doors,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Metal Thangz,
Deakin,
Pagans,
The Real Kids,
Rotary Connection,
The Neon Judgement,
Dead Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Mission of Burma,
Harry Pussy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marmalade,
Ronnie Foster,
Massinfluence,
The Mojo Men,
Duran Duran,
Neil Young,
Alice Coltrane,
Colin Newman,
Lyres,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nik Kershaw,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.