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 Kenya and from Hong Kong.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Girls At Our Best! to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All New Order tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Television Personalities record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gastr Del Sol,
R.M.O.,
Dead Boys,
10cc,
Vladislav Delay,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
David Axelrod,
The Evens,
Johnny Clarke,
Juan Atkins,
OOIOO,
Charles Mingus,
Malaria!,
Intrusion,
Saccharine Trust,
Lee Hazlewood,
Fugazi,
The American Breed,
Stetsasonic,
Organ,
Alison Limerick,
Zero Boys,
The United States of America,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Normal,
The Last Poets,
Lightning Bolt,
Buzzcocks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dave Gahan,
John Cale,
Accadde A,
Amazonics,
New Order,
Chrome,
Gichy Dan,
Derrick May,
These Immortal Souls,
Absolute Body Control,
Freddie Wadling,
Main Source,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Nico,
X-102,
Barrington Levy,
Barry Ungar,
Marc Almond,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Sound,
Fat Boys,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Cramps,
KRS-One,
Nirvana,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dual Sessions,
Half Japanese,
Trumans Water,
Tears for Fears,
Adolescents,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.