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 Chad and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Monks to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 snare and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bill Near record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Morten Harket,
The Gun Club,
Wasted Youth,
Metal Thangz,
D'Angelo,
Sight & Sound,
Josef K,
Bootsy Collins,
Rod Modell,
Patti Smith,
The Divine Comedy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Black Bananas,
Colin Newman,
Robert Hood,
Eddi Front,
Bluetip,
Absolute Body Control,
Scrapy,
Charles Mingus,
Animal Collective,
Godley & Creme,
Fat Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Jimmy McGriff,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lalann,
Funky Four + One,
Graham Central Station,
John Cale,
The Smoke,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
David Axelrod,
Lyres,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Schoolly D,
Motorama,
The Remains,
Joe Finger,
Pierre Henry,
Sugar Minott,
F. McDonald,
Blake Baxter,
Eden Ahbez,
Chris Corsano,
The Electric Prunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Crime,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Mummies,
Sandy B,
The Fugs,
Pantytec,
Easy Going,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Sherman,
B.T. Express,
Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell, Soft Cell.
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.