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 Hungary and from Sao Paulo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Slits to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
DJ Style,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Man Parrish,
Lindisfarne,
Soft Cell,
Dark Day,
Newcleus,
The Fortunes,
The Gap Band,
Hardrive,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Glenn Branca,
Guru Guru,
Sam Rivers,
Supertramp,
The Beau Brummels,
Yazoo,
Eli Mardock,
Bob Dylan,
Duran Duran,
Eric Copeland,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amazonics,
DNA,
Schoolly D,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Slick Rick,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grey Daturas,
Von Mondo,
Isaac Hayes,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
FM Einheit,
Henry Cow,
Deakin,
Hoover,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Velvet Underground,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tears for Fears,
Camouflage,
Scion,
Blancmange,
Moebius,
Alice Coltrane,
Eurythmics,
Pagans,
Lalann,
Wasted Youth,
John Foxx,
Jacob Miller,
Aswad,
Popol Vuh,
Eddi Front,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.