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 Columbus.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lou Reed & Metallica to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Newcleus. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Mars,
Albert Ayler,
Electric Prunes,
Blancmange,
The American Breed,
Cymande,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scion,
Fat Boys,
Deadbeat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Oblivians,
John Foxx,
Blossom Toes,
Silicon Teens,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Liliput,
Peter and Kerry,
Panda Bear,
China Crisis,
Wasted Youth,
Jesper Dahlback,
Matthew Halsall,
Reagan Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Black Pus,
Lungfish,
Josef K,
Sun Ra,
Pierre Henry,
Lower 48,
Bronski Beat,
The Gladiators,
Monks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Sun City Girls,
The Human League,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Icehouse,
Marc Almond,
Ultravox,
Thompson Twins,
Joe Smooth,
Q and Not U,
Pere Ubu,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Holt,
Fear,
Adolescents,
Tommy Roe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Leonard Cohen,
Smog,
Basic Channel,
Main Source,
Deakin,
Camberwell Now,
Black Bananas,
The Red Krayola,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.