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 Thailand and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 sitar 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 The Modern Lovers to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Walker Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Neon Judgement tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ultra Naté,
The Smoke,
Faust,
Infiniti,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
X-101,
DNA,
Unrelated Segments,
New Order,
Sparks,
The Buckinghams,
Dave Gahan,
La Düsseldorf,
Monks,
The J.B.'s,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacques Brel,
The Offenders,
The Selecter,
The Blackbyrds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Lou Christie,
R.M.O.,
The Cramps,
Livin' Joy,
Deakin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Qualms,
Warren Ellis,
Anakelly,
The Doors,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Zeros,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New Age Steppers,
Half Japanese,
Cecil Taylor,
Panda Bear,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Popol Vuh,
Rod Modell,
Metal Thangz,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tim Buckley,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dual Sessions,
The Kinks,
Babytalk,
Hoover,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Symarip,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
the Sonics,
Tears for Fears,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.