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 Madagascar and from Houston.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Danielle Patucci to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
The United States of America,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Suicide,
Nation of Ulysses,
Amon Düül II,
DJ Style,
Radio Birdman,
Duran Duran,
The Associates,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lungfish,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Lynne,
Japan,
Spoonie Gee,
Tim Buckley,
Parry Music,
Qualms,
The Knickerbockers,
Idris Muhammad,
Can,
Fat Boys,
Black Pus,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Cybotron,
The Tremeloes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Deakin,
Faraquet,
Royal Trux,
Bang On A Can,
Pere Ubu,
Arthur Verocai,
Stereo Dub,
The Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Sonic Youth,
The Stooges,
Scion,
The Electric Prunes,
The Real Kids,
Angry Samoans,
David McCallum,
Derrick Morgan,
the Soft Cell,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Todd Terry,
Organ,
Public Enemy,
Wire,
Bob Dylan,
Carl Craig,
Wally Richardson,
Alton Ellis,
Hashim,
Aural Exciters,
X-101,
Lee Hazlewood,
Robert Wyatt,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.