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 Andorra and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
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 Captain Beefheart 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Visage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suburban Knight record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gories,
Marmalade,
Terry Callier,
Godley & Creme,
Matthew Bourne,
Radiohead,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Blake Baxter,
The Raincoats,
Hoover,
Buzzcocks,
Todd Rundgren,
Sandy B,
June Days,
Icehouse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Grass Roots,
Whodini,
Lucky Dragons,
The Seeds,
Janne Schatter,
Avey Tare,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ten City,
Roxy Music,
L. Decosne,
Rosa Yemen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bobby Byrd,
Mary Jane Girls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fatback Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Hot Snakes,
Howard Jones,
Rekid,
Grauzone,
Mantronix,
Henry Cow,
Crispy Ambulance,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Sheep,
Desert Stars,
The Black Dice,
Yellowson,
Nirvana,
Eurythmics,
Althea and Donna,
The Busters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Foxx,
The Stooges,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.