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 Laos and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sällskapet 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
OOIOO,
Panda Bear,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Almond,
Barbara Tucker,
Robert Hood,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Music Machine,
Kevin Saunderson,
Japan,
Hasil Adkins,
Tubeway Army,
KRS-One,
Negative Approach,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Henry Cow,
Ten City,
Symarip,
Mission of Burma,
Scion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Patti Smith,
Piero Umiliani,
Los Fastidios,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Sonics,
Black Pus,
Chris & Cosey,
the Normal,
Soul Sonic Force,
Cymande,
Tommy Roe,
Altered Images,
Theoretical Girls,
Byron Stingily,
Mad Mike,
Audionom,
Jesper Dahlback,
Scrapy,
Bush Tetras,
The Index,
B.T. Express,
Kenny Larkin,
Amon Düül,
Skriet,
Yusef Lateef,
Al Stewart,
Sam Rivers,
The Victims,
Nik Kershaw,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
Q65,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Near,
The Fire Engines,
The Gories,
Easy Going,
Swans,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.