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 Poland and from Lille.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Doobie Brothers to the rock 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Gerry Rafferty,
Pantaleimon,
the Soft Cell,
the Germs,
Black Flag,
Altered Images,
Make Up,
The Happenings,
Bush Tetras,
B.T. Express,
X-Ray Spex,
Wasted Youth,
The Invisible,
Flamin' Groovies,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Metal Thangz,
Ten City,
Sandy B,
Stiv Bators,
The Names,
Jeru the Damaja,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ultimate Spinach,
Massinfluence,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Real Kids,
Faraquet,
Yaz,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lakeside,
The Gun Club,
Lower 48,
Rapeman,
Hoover,
Davy DMX,
Country Teasers,
Roxette,
Vladislav Delay,
Das Ding,
Amon Düül II,
Ken Boothe,
Grauzone,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The Velvet Underground,
Brass Construction,
Fugazi,
Kaleidoscope,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Prince Buster,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Last Poets,
Marvin Gaye,
Newcleus,
Buzzcocks,
Laurel Aitken,
Sex Pistols,
The Star Department,
Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry, Todd Terry.
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.