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 Papua New Guinea and from Manila.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Madrid.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Slave. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alison Limerick,
Chrome,
Gabor Szabo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
MC5,
Rotary Connection,
Panda Bear,
Bauhaus,
the Normal,
Shoche,
New Age Steppers,
Rufus Thomas,
The Selecter,
Warsaw,
Marc Almond,
The Motions,
Wally Richardson,
Public Enemy,
Kurtis Blow,
the Sonics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
E-Dancer,
Crooked Eye,
Kayak,
Black Sheep,
Bootsy Collins,
Amon Düül II,
Pulsallama,
Loose Ends,
Eden Ahbez,
Clear Light,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Hill,
The Misunderstood,
Wire,
World's Most,
The Golliwogs,
Magazine,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brass Construction,
The Wake,
Tom Boy,
Sun City Girls,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Grass Roots,
Ludus,
Joe Smooth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grandmaster Flash,
Max Romeo,
Vladislav Delay,
LL Cool J,
The Index,
Q65,
Brick,
The Residents,
Carl Craig,
Franke,
Pharoah Sanders,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.