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 Bulgaria and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Metal Thangz to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Aural Exciters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
The Monks,
Model 500,
Black Moon,
X-101,
Black Sheep,
The Music Machine,
Aural Exciters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang On A Can,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joyce Sims,
X-Ray Spex,
Sister Nancy,
FM Einheit,
Sandy B,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Electric Prunes,
DNA,
Todd Rundgren,
Thee Headcoats,
Tim Buckley,
Sällskapet,
The Evens,
Little Man,
Traffic Nightmare,
David McCallum,
Visage,
Minutemen,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mission of Burma,
Anakelly,
The Divine Comedy,
Whodini,
Gang of Four,
Nirvana,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Patti Smith,
Derrick Morgan,
X-102,
Mantronix,
The Litter,
Jacob Miller,
the Sonics,
Audionom,
Mo-Dettes,
Ronan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
L. Decosne,
T.S.O.L.,
Throbbing Gristle,
EPMD,
Brothers Johnson,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Starr,
Rekid,
KRS-One,
a-ha,
Lou Christie,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The New Christs,
The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots, The Grass Roots.
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.