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 Belarus and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Duran Duran to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Almond 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Vainqueur,
Essential Logic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Clarke,
Henry Cow,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Nation of Ulysses,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sex Pistols,
The Moody Blues,
Technova,
the Soft Cell,
Soft Machine,
Jacob Miller,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
X-Ray Spex,
Motorama,
New Age Steppers,
Brick,
Moebius,
The Doors,
Mary Jane Girls,
John Lydon,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Sonics,
Laurel Aitken,
Youth Brigade,
Tomorrow,
The Angels of Light,
Pantytec,
Howard Jones,
Juan Atkins,
The Smoke,
Sam Rivers,
Susan Cadogan,
Agitation Free,
Average White Band,
Janne Schatter,
Robert Görl,
the Swans,
Circle Jerks,
Clear Light,
Cecil Taylor,
Bronski Beat,
The Sonics,
Yusef Lateef,
This Heat,
Derrick May,
Minor Threat,
Nico,
Archie Shepp,
The Offenders,
Severed Heads,
Crash Course in Science,
Graham Central Station,
John Coltrane,
The Stooges,
Ice-T,
Section 25,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.