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 Iran and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Thee Headcoats to the techno 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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barclay James Harvest record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New Age Steppers,
The Stooges,
Ohio Players,
Lou Christie,
Half Japanese,
Nico,
The Happenings,
the Soft Cell,
The Gories,
Morten Harket,
The Moleskins,
Panda Bear,
Agent Orange,
Junior Murvin,
Crooked Eye,
Model 500,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Derrick May,
Siglo XX,
Mr. Review,
Arab on Radar,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Los Fastidios,
K-Klass,
Fluxion,
Bush Tetras,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Slits,
The Cure,
The Seeds,
Al Stewart,
Electric Prunes,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Delta 5,
Interpol,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Grass Roots,
Wasted Youth,
Black Pus,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Michelle Simonal,
Jesper Dahlback,
Lucky Dragons,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Trojans,
Deadbeat,
The Cramps,
Harry Pussy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marc Almond,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fat Boys,
Neil Young,
Ronnie Foster,
Crime,
Pere Ubu,
Kurtis Blow,
The Angels of Light,
The Dirtbombs,
Archie Shepp,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.