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 Finland and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 mellotron 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 Max Romeo to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The Monochrome Set,
Radiopuhelimet,
Tubeway Army,
Gichy Dan,
Suicide,
Nik Kershaw,
The Divine Comedy,
Circle Jerks,
The Moody Blues,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Blancmange,
Magazine,
Shoche,
Lee Hazlewood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marvin Gaye,
Don Cherry,
Parry Music,
Nirvana,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Martian,
Faust,
Roger Hodgson,
U.S. Maple,
R.M.O.,
The Slackers,
Sound Behaviour,
The Standells,
The Angels of Light,
Crispy Ambulance,
Laurel Aitken,
Sparks,
Grauzone,
Lindisfarne,
Pet Shop Boys,
Flipper,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barry Ungar,
Zero Boys,
The Fugs,
Vladislav Delay,
The Happenings,
Pulsallama,
Stockholm Monsters,
Electric Prunes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June Days,
The Gories,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Barracudas,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Germs,
The Young Rascals,
Cameo,
Duran Duran,
Grey Daturas,
The Fortunes,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.