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 Japan and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Eve St. Jones to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & John Cale record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dennis Brown,
Theoretical Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Camouflage,
Arcadia,
Black Flag,
Suburban Knight,
Con Funk Shun,
Shoche,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Womack,
Gichy Dan,
Janne Schatter,
Graham Central Station,
Charles Mingus,
Fugazi,
Thompson Twins,
Alice Coltrane,
Soul II Soul,
Television Personalities,
LL Cool J,
Rosa Yemen,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Skaos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
X-102,
The Slits,
the Swans,
Mars,
Mr. Review,
Minny Pops,
Rufus Thomas,
Agitation Free,
Sugar Minott,
The Pretty Things,
Country Teasers,
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Goldenarms,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Monks,
The Leaves,
Byron Stingily,
Sonny Sharrock,
Das Ding,
Swell Maps,
Zero Boys,
Easy Going,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Henry Cow,
Eric B and Rakim,
Drive Like Jehu,
Suicide,
The Grass Roots,
Lebanon Hanover,
Index,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lyres,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.