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 Peru and from Taipei.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Flamin' Groovies to the funk 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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Faust,
Minor Threat,
Scrapy,
Pharoah Sanders,
Livin' Joy,
Hoover,
Dead Boys,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Bar-Kays,
Soft Machine,
Harry Pussy,
Boz Scaggs,
The Music Machine,
The Litter,
Kurtis Blow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Davy DMX,
Liliput,
The Beau Brummels,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Golliwogs,
The Buckinghams,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sonic Youth,
Cluster,
Mo-Dettes,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Moleskins,
Lyres,
Yaz,
June Days,
Letta Mbulu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Roxy Music,
X-Ray Spex,
Albert Ayler,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Mandrill,
The Doors,
Boredoms,
Index,
Kerri Chandler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Average White Band,
Rekid,
Accadde A,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sight & Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Infiniti,
Subhumans,
A Flock of Seagulls,
One Last Wish,
Gang Green,
Main Source,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.