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 Italy and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Slits to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
The Sound,
E-Dancer,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kaleidoscope,
Echospace,
Mr. Review,
Alphaville,
Procol Harum,
June Days,
Wally Richardson,
Arthur Verocai,
Popol Vuh,
Ronan,
Dead Boys,
Lakeside,
Stiv Bators,
Hashim,
Ice-T,
Chris Corsano,
Sun Ra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang On A Can,
David Bowie,
Camberwell Now,
Barrington Levy,
Magazine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Letta Mbulu,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sexual Harrassment,
Patti Smith,
Technova,
Boredoms,
New Order,
Sunsets and Hearts,
China Crisis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Siglo XX,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eurythmics,
Wolf Eyes,
John Foxx,
Bush Tetras,
Average White Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Electric Prunes,
The Young Rascals,
Bluetip,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sight & Sound,
Man Parrish,
Yusef Lateef,
Negative Approach,
Altered Images,
The Toasters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Essential Logic,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.