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 Bangladesh and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Traffic Nightmare to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Connie Case. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pole,
ABC,
Severed Heads,
Y Pants,
The Seeds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Boz Scaggs,
Babytalk,
Chris & Cosey,
The Cramps,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Bill Wells,
Urselle,
Fad Gadget,
The Velvet Underground,
Rakim,
Aural Exciters,
Visage,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Livin' Joy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Banda Bassotti,
Boogie Down Productions,
Siglo XX,
Wasted Youth,
The Gladiators,
Mandrill,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Dead Boys,
Harmonia,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Delta 5,
Quando Quango,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Five Americans,
Yazoo,
The American Breed,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bob Dylan,
Rod Modell,
Desert Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Crash Course in Science,
Tropical Tobacco,
Moss Icon,
The Mummies,
Subhumans,
H. Thieme,
Supertramp,
Sarah Menescal,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang Green,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.