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 Lagos.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the dance 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Martian,
U.S. Maple,
Kerri Chandler,
The Monochrome Set,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cramps,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Associates,
Joensuu 1685,
Interpol,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Clear Light,
Amon Düül II,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lower 48,
Organ,
The Vogues,
The Last Poets,
D'Angelo,
the Normal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
E-Dancer,
a-ha,
Pantaleimon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Malaria!,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Barracudas,
The Slits,
Matthew Halsall,
Sparks,
Lindisfarne,
Monolake,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Judy Mowatt,
Circle Jerks,
John Lydon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Kayak,
Pharoah Sanders,
Make Up,
Scion,
Siglo XX,
The Knickerbockers,
Jeff Mills,
Barry Ungar,
Infiniti,
The Buckinghams,
Drive Like Jehu,
Skaos,
David Axelrod,
Sight & Sound,
Man Eating Sloth,
Buzzcocks,
Television Personalities,
Carl Craig,
Niagra,
Hot Snakes,
Chris Corsano,
T. Rex,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.