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 Spain and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Porter Ricks to the rock 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All John Holt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultravox,
Faust,
A Certain Ratio,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Cale,
The Remains,
Cymande,
Sarah Menescal,
The Music Machine,
Lakeside,
The Happenings,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Lou Christie,
Simply Red,
Country Teasers,
Dawn Penn,
Avey Tare,
Scan 7,
Franke,
Bronski Beat,
Hoover,
Liliput,
Godley & Creme,
Gang of Four,
Henry Cow,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Animal Collective,
Scientists,
Kenny Larkin,
R.M.O.,
Bang On A Can,
Stiv Bators,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ohio Players,
Roxy Music,
Qualms,
Aloha Tigers,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Angry Samoans,
Barbara Tucker,
Ronan,
Cameo,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Hardrive,
The Cramps,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Holt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Moss Icon,
U.S. Maple,
Skriet,
Fad Gadget,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Alphaville,
The Evens,
Jimmy McGriff,
In Retrospect,
Josef K,
Tears for Fears,
Spandau Ballet,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.