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 Croatia and from Tehran.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 oboe 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 The Alarm Clocks to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Amazonics,
The Fortunes,
Ronan,
Minutemen,
Tres Demented,
Can,
Harpers Bizarre,
Steve Hackett,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Public Enemy,
Altered Images,
Peter and Kerry,
Ken Boothe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sonic Youth,
Theoretical Girls,
World's Most,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tomorrow,
Magazine,
Hashim,
The Moleskins,
Jeru the Damaja,
Avey Tare,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Misunderstood,
The Real Kids,
Barrington Levy,
Crooked Eye,
The Stooges,
The Smiths,
Jandek,
Fat Boys,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Ossler,
Television,
Nico,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Durutti Column,
The Toasters,
Make Up,
Symarip,
The Smoke,
The Fall,
The Tremeloes,
David McCallum,
Matthew Halsall,
Rod Modell,
Eli Mardock,
The Raincoats,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Pop Group,
Henry Cow,
Subhumans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Names,
Pantytec,
Arab on Radar,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.