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 Eritrea and from Beijing.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds to the rock 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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a China Crisis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Goldenarms,
Nico,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Red Krayola,
The Slackers,
Masters at Work,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Gories,
Blossom Toes,
Max Romeo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ultimate Spinach,
Absolute Body Control,
Nils Olav,
X-101,
Robert Hood,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Arthur Verocai,
Fluxion,
Deakin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Amazonics,
Electric Prunes,
The Fire Engines,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fugazi,
Nation of Ulysses,
Banda Bassotti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Matthew Halsall,
Ronnie Foster,
Prince Buster,
The Walker Brothers,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
Minor Threat,
Arab on Radar,
The Flesh Eaters,
Brand Nubian,
Alison Limerick,
James White and The Blacks,
David Bowie,
Black Sheep,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Germs,
Archie Shepp,
Bobby Sherman,
Pantytec,
The Dead C,
The Standells,
The Young Rascals,
Scott Walker,
Quantec,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.