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 Kiribati and from New York.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Pulsallama to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flipper,
Amon Düül,
Chrome,
Cameo,
Charles Mingus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Popol Vuh,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Techniques,
Skarface,
Hardrive,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barrington Levy,
Fluxion,
Camouflage,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T. Rex,
The Sound,
The Skatalites,
Newcleus,
Sällskapet,
Thee Headcoats,
The Gun Club,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Grass Roots,
The Kinks,
UT,
Accadde A,
Pantytec,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gong,
The J.B.'s,
Lyres,
Aaron Thompson,
Funkadelic,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Patti Smith,
The Standells,
Ten City,
Traffic Nightmare,
Connie Case,
X-Ray Spex,
Andrew Hill,
Qualms,
ABBA,
Maleditus Sound,
Eurythmics,
Sam Rivers,
cv313,
Peter & Gordon,
The Doors,
Quando Quango,
Matthew Halsall,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nico,
the Slits,
The Birthday Party,
Steve Hackett,
Interpol,
Scott Walker,
Archie Shepp,
DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style, DJ Style.
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.