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 Antigua and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Dead C,
Pole,
Ronnie Foster,
Infiniti,
The Fire Engines,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Saccharine Trust,
Mo-Dettes,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Crooked Eye,
La Düsseldorf,
Faust,
Kerri Chandler,
Josef K,
Gang Green,
June Days,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Albert Ayler,
The Gun Club,
Sparks,
Ornette Coleman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brass Construction,
Donny Hathaway,
The Smoke,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bobby Womack,
Arcadia,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Man Parrish,
the Germs,
Deakin,
The Kinks,
Blancmange,
Spoonie Gee,
Average White Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
Popol Vuh,
DNA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
U.S. Maple,
Public Enemy,
Dorothy Ashby,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dark Day,
Skaos,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
Excepter,
Moby Grape,
Pierre Henry,
Young Marble Giants,
Neu!,
Kurtis Blow,
Outsiders,
Glenn Branca,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Delta 5,
The Associates,
Lalo Schifrin,
Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators, Stiv Bators.
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.