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 Peru and from Woodstock.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare 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 Man Parrish to the electroclash 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 The Busters. All the underground hits.
All Scrapy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
UT,
Albert Ayler,
The Gun Club,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Excepter,
Eden Ahbez,
CMW,
Slick Rick,
Patti Smith,
John Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Sexual Harrassment,
the Bar-Kays,
Banda Bassotti,
Duran Duran,
Sixth Finger,
Liliput,
Delta 5,
The Fall,
Shoche,
the Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Faraquet,
Boredoms,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Velvet Underground,
Dave Gahan,
Roxette,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sister Nancy,
The Dead C,
Tubeway Army,
The Raincoats,
Arab on Radar,
U.S. Maple,
Eurythmics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Royal Trux,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jerry's Kids,
Tim Buckley,
R.M.O.,
Hoover,
Flash Fearless,
The Trojans,
The Real Kids,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Music Machine,
Crispy Ambulance,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nirvana,
Gil Scott Heron,
Circle Jerks,
FM Einheit,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lyres,
Rakim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Q and Not U,
Popol Vuh,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.