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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Lille.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scan 7 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Tropical Tobacco,
MC5,
Ultravox,
Laurel Aitken,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Scion,
Camberwell Now,
Colin Newman,
Warren Ellis,
The Moody Blues,
Sarah Menescal,
Pet Shop Boys,
Boz Scaggs,
DNA,
The Zeros,
Gong,
Theoretical Girls,
Mantronix,
Connie Case,
The Slackers,
Rosa Yemen,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sister Nancy,
Cameo,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Beau Brummels,
Big Daddy Kane,
Scrapy,
Liliput,
Idris Muhammad,
Lyres,
JFA,
Lou Reed,
Soft Cell,
David Axelrod,
Excepter,
Gang Green,
the Normal,
Subhumans,
Harry Pussy,
The Wake,
Television,
Agitation Free,
kango's stein massive,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Model 500,
James White and The Blacks,
Amon Düül II,
Groovy Waters,
Cal Tjader,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Shoche,
The Fire Engines,
Godley & Creme,
Porter Ricks,
Camouflage,
Deadbeat,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.