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 Philippines and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Terrestrial Tones to the grunge 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 Crime. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boredoms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hoover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blake Baxter,
The United States of America,
Whodini,
Buzzcocks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
June of 44,
The Fortunes,
Minny Pops,
Crash Course in Science,
The Music Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Interpol,
Alphaville,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rekid,
Yazoo,
Black Bananas,
Lindisfarne,
Dark Day,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Pagans,
Kayak,
Mandrill,
PIL,
Ponytail,
The Mummies,
Cymande,
X-Ray Spex,
Archie Shepp,
Aloha Tigers,
Janne Schatter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
T. Rex,
The Remains,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang of Four,
Sight & Sound,
Monolake,
Marvin Gaye,
Pierre Henry,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Golliwogs,
La Düsseldorf,
The Raincoats,
A Certain Ratio,
Chrome,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Byrd,
Black Flag,
The Young Rascals,
Mad Mike,
Sparks,
Gang Gang Dance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Joyce Sims,
Intrusion,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soft Cell,
Rites of Spring,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.