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 Guinea and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 güiro 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 Crispy Ambulance to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jimmy McGriff,
Thompson Twins,
Minutemen,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kurtis Blow,
Dennis Brown,
Drexciya,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Freddie Wadling,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q and Not U,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bronski Beat,
The Gun Club,
F. McDonald,
Monks,
Eurythmics,
Erasure,
Jacques Brel,
Minnie Riperton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Eli Mardock,
Slick Rick,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
KRS-One,
Junior Murvin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Robert Wyatt,
The Move,
Fat Boys,
Crooked Eye,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Warsaw,
Soul II Soul,
The Martian,
The Sound,
Scion,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
Tomorrow,
Quantec,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Man Eating Sloth,
Spoonie Gee,
John Lydon,
Barrington Levy,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Shoche,
DJ Sneak,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neu!,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
David McCallum,
Janne Schatter,
The Names,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skaos,
Pantaleimon,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.