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 Sri Lanka and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the grime 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
Mr. Review,
Bronski Beat,
Radiohead,
World's Most,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smiths,
Janne Schatter,
T. Rex,
Talk Talk,
Mantronix,
The Blackbyrds,
AZ,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Josef K,
Stetsasonic,
Soul II Soul,
Alphaville,
James White and The Blacks,
Angry Samoans,
The American Breed,
Wire,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Bobby Byrd,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Move,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scott Walker,
The Monochrome Set,
The Birthday Party,
Babytalk,
The Barracudas,
Spoonie Gee,
Glambeats Corp.,
Black Sheep,
Bluetip,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barry Ungar,
Camouflage,
The Sonics,
Henry Cow,
Organ,
Ultra Naté,
Kayak,
Maleditus Sound,
Agent Orange,
Aloha Tigers,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Hood,
Buzzcocks,
The Dave Clark Five,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sam Rivers,
John Cale,
Pussy Galore,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.