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 Papua New Guinea and from London.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro 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 Stetsasonic to the rock 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Freddie Wadling,
Barclay James Harvest,
This Heat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Judy Mowatt,
Pagans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Motions,
Zero Boys,
The Zeros,
The Victims,
Derrick May,
Bobby Womack,
Black Sheep,
Junior Murvin,
Blossom Toes,
Funky Four + One,
Jeff Lynne,
Barrington Levy,
Thee Headcoats,
Youth Brigade,
the Slits,
Ultravox,
The Dead C,
Gregory Isaacs,
Todd Rundgren,
David Bowie,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Desert Stars,
Eric Copeland,
the Soft Cell,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
X-101,
Lightning Bolt,
Tim Buckley,
Fluxion,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skarface,
Index,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
OOIOO,
Pierre Henry,
Mad Mike,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
a-ha,
Wire,
Eli Mardock,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Glambeats Corp.,
Livin' Joy,
Infiniti,
Dual Sessions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Au Pairs,
Goldenarms,
Suburban Knight,
The Offenders,
The Golliwogs,
John Cale,
Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic, Funkadelic.
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.