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 Kenya and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin 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 The Index to the disco 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 Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All Zapp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product 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?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Oblivians,
Sparks,
Fat Boys,
Oneida,
Hasil Adkins,
Kerri Chandler,
Grandmaster Flash,
James White and The Blacks,
The Grass Roots,
Jesper Dahlback,
Youth Brigade,
Lungfish,
Yellowson,
Aaron Thompson,
Newcleus,
Severed Heads,
Los Fastidios,
Morten Harket,
48th St. Collective,
Warsaw,
L. Decosne,
Juan Atkins,
The Neon Judgement,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Monks,
Circle Jerks,
Donny Hathaway,
Babytalk,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Adolescents,
The Toasters,
Marine Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Coltrane,
Tears for Fears,
Robert Wyatt,
Rakim,
Hoover,
Pussy Galore,
Absolute Body Control,
Chris Corsano,
The Litter,
The Beau Brummels,
The Index,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blancmange,
EPMD,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Blues Magoos,
Icehouse,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Red Krayola,
Make Up,
Rapeman,
Urselle,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jerry's Kids,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.