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 Togo 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Beau Brummels to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Sheep 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sixth Finger,
Adolescents,
Mission of Burma,
Sister Nancy,
Mantronix,
Visage,
Black Pus,
Cymande,
The Red Krayola,
The Divine Comedy,
The Offenders,
Lucky Dragons,
Boredoms,
Andrew Hill,
Black Moon,
Gang of Four,
Surgeon,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Grauzone,
The Fuzztones,
Minutemen,
The Happenings,
U.S. Maple,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Severed Heads,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Barracudas,
David McCallum,
Idris Muhammad,
Sandy B,
The Selecter,
Bobby Sherman,
Unwound,
Ohio Players,
Rotary Connection,
Sonic Youth,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kenny Larkin,
Traffic Nightmare,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cluster,
Clear Light,
The Cure,
The Five Americans,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sugar Minott,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Angry Samoans,
FM Einheit,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Sällskapet,
The Remains,
The Motions,
Darondo,
The Monks,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.