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 Antigua and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Minor Threat to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Underground Resistance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moody Blues,
Siglo XX,
Gabor Szabo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
EPMD,
Gong,
Tim Buckley,
The Martian,
Chrome,
Marine Girls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
David Axelrod,
Mo-Dettes,
Swans,
Amazonics,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jacob Miller,
Kaleidoscope,
Cheater Slicks,
Alice Coltrane,
X-101,
Bobby Womack,
Robert Görl,
H. Thieme,
Lucky Dragons,
Matthew Halsall,
the Slits,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scrapy,
ABBA,
Mars,
Aural Exciters,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Lydon,
Inner City,
The Names,
The Alarm Clocks,
Zapp,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Monolake,
Scientists,
Avey Tare,
Saccharine Trust,
Rotary Connection,
Joensuu 1685,
Guru Guru,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sun City Girls,
Metal Thangz,
Little Man,
Banda Bassotti,
Danielle Patucci,
Wire,
The Toasters,
Boredoms,
The Leaves,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skarface,
The Slackers,
Brass Construction,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.