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 Azerbaijan and from Lagos.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the snare 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 Absolute Body Control to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Public Enemy. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slave record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Red Lorry Yellow Lorry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The American Breed,
Parry Music,
Bobby Sherman,
Metal Thangz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
James White and The Blacks,
Mark Hollis,
The Residents,
Minutemen,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Schoolly D,
Oblivians,
Qualms,
Black Moon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Icehouse,
Lou Reed,
Max Romeo,
Average White Band,
The Modern Lovers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young,
Sarah Menescal,
Tres Demented,
Mission of Burma,
Angry Samoans,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terry Callier,
Von Mondo,
Bauhaus,
Joey Negro,
Roger Hodgson,
Scratch Acid,
Cybotron,
Lakeside,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Banda Bassotti,
Radiohead,
Jerry's Kids,
Gong,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Magazine,
The Stooges,
Sonic Youth,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Beau Brummels,
Alton Ellis,
Grey Daturas,
Circle Jerks,
Shoche,
Niagra,
Agitation Free,
Boredoms,
New York Dolls,
Bill Near,
ABBA,
Aaron Thompson,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.