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 Barbados and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare 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 Jerry's Kids to the punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 New Christs. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Metal Thangz,
Scientists,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mars,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Hill,
Erasure,
Yazoo,
The J.B.'s,
Roxy Music,
Man Parrish,
Livin' Joy,
Section 25,
Archie Shepp,
Delta 5,
Bobby Byrd,
Tom Boy,
Terry Callier,
Amon Düül,
The Remains,
Blake Baxter,
Guru Guru,
The Human League,
James White and The Blacks,
Henry Cow,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tres Demented,
Traffic Nightmare,
Main Source,
MDC,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Intrusion,
The Beau Brummels,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Derrick May,
Public Enemy,
Arcadia,
The Vogues,
Magazine,
Rod Modell,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sex Pistols,
Scrapy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Bob Dylan,
Heaven 17,
Reagan Youth,
Icehouse,
Slick Rick,
The Pop Group,
Electric Light Orchestra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eden Ahbez,
X-102,
The Happenings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Monks,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.