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 Djibouti 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Lydon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Organ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
Cameo,
The Selecter,
Panda Bear,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Sonics,
Scratch Acid,
Alice Coltrane,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Neon Judgement,
Harry Pussy,
Goldenarms,
The Five Americans,
June Days,
Fatback Band,
Siglo XX,
The Searchers,
Blake Baxter,
Skriet,
Newcleus,
Harpers Bizarre,
Grey Daturas,
Rotary Connection,
Monks,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Faust,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lou Christie,
Black Bananas,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Names,
David Axelrod,
Kaleidoscope,
The Gap Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Nils Olav,
Crispy Ambulance,
Godley & Creme,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dead Boys,
Rekid,
Freddie Wadling,
ABBA,
Suburban Knight,
Oblivians,
Fat Boys,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Neu!,
Main Source,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Doobie Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Youth Brigade,
Black Flag,
Kerri Chandler,
X-Ray Spex,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.