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 Norway and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 Jacques Brel to the grime 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 Patti Smith. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Toasters,
Deadbeat,
Vladislav Delay,
Jerry's Kids,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Barracudas,
the Association,
Franke,
Visage,
Jerry Gold Smith,
X-102,
Archie Shepp,
Thompson Twins,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skaos,
Kerrie Biddell,
U.S. Maple,
Make Up,
Black Flag,
F. McDonald,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
Eric Dolphy,
Royal Trux,
The Seeds,
The Names,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Stooges,
Quadrant,
The Residents,
Rotary Connection,
John Cale,
Ronan,
Maurizio,
E-Dancer,
Maleditus Sound,
Amon Düül,
Tubeway Army,
Joe Smooth,
Ice-T,
Sound Behaviour,
Radiohead,
Mars,
Urselle,
Parry Music,
Mark Hollis,
The Raincoats,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Icehouse,
Outsiders,
The Wake,
The Zeros,
Ultra Naté,
The Mojo Men,
The Doors,
Ronnie Foster,
Agent Orange,
Lalann,
Glenn Branca,
Simply Red,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.