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 Malaysia and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Q and Not U to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Dead Boys. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythim Is Rhythim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Bang On A Can,
Motorama,
The Black Dice,
Jeff Mills,
Lindisfarne,
Ornette Coleman,
Aswad,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Organ,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marc Almond,
The Raincoats,
The Doors,
The Electric Prunes,
Kayak,
CMW,
Jeff Lynne,
Brand Nubian,
Outsiders,
The American Breed,
Josef K,
Ice-T,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Schoolly D,
Chris Corsano,
the Normal,
Audionom,
Average White Band,
Cymande,
Banda Bassotti,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Cale,
Steve Hackett,
The Saints,
48th St. Collective,
Howard Jones,
Eric Copeland,
Grandmaster Flash,
Albert Ayler,
Joe Smooth,
The Cure,
Rosa Yemen,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Amazonics,
John Lydon,
Qualms,
K-Klass,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Charles Mingus,
Ultravox,
Warsaw,
Buzzcocks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Godley & Creme,
The Zeros,
Livin' Joy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Certain Ratio,
Saccharine Trust,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.