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 Kenya and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rites of Spring to the techno 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
Brick,
LL Cool J,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Grass Roots,
Marc Almond,
Tropical Tobacco,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Pantytec,
The Dave Clark Five,
Funky Four + One,
X-Ray Spex,
Michelle Simonal,
The Five Americans,
Can,
MDC,
Sight & Sound,
Goldenarms,
Outsiders,
The Durutti Column,
John Holt,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Swans,
Khruangbin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New Age Steppers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Masters at Work,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joensuu 1685,
Barrington Levy,
E-Dancer,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ludus,
The Happenings,
Barry Ungar,
Flipper,
The Fall,
Al Stewart,
The Buckinghams,
The Smoke,
The Divine Comedy,
Popol Vuh,
Todd Terry,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Negative Approach,
Gong,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dawn Penn,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mark Hollis,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Theoretical Girls,
Supertramp,
Heaven 17,
Joey Negro,
Gang Green,
A Certain Ratio,
Black Moon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland, Eric Copeland.
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.