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 Dominica and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Lee Hazlewood to the jazz 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All The Tremeloes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Negative Approach,
Oneida,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Peter and Kerry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Techniques,
Massinfluence,
Deakin,
The Last Poets,
The Gladiators,
Arcadia,
Faraquet,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Half Japanese,
Josef K,
Intrusion,
The Smoke,
Al Stewart,
New York Dolls,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Black Dice,
Charles Mingus,
Derrick May,
Agent Orange,
Rotary Connection,
Dead Boys,
Byron Stingily,
The Zeros,
The Dirtbombs,
Mr. Review,
Angry Samoans,
Youth Brigade,
Ornette Coleman,
Fugazi,
The Busters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultra Naté,
Hoover,
The Fire Engines,
Brand Nubian,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harmonia,
D'Angelo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shoche,
The Victims,
Rufus Thomas,
Echospace,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pantytec,
The Blackbyrds,
K-Klass,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mantronix,
Sex Pistols,
Frankie Knuckles,
Main Source,
The American Breed,
The Mighty Diamonds,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.