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 Mexico City.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 U.S. Maple to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Marc Almond,
Aloha Tigers,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Maurizio,
The Gladiators,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fire Engines,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
Stetsasonic,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ponytail,
Arcadia,
Fear,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Trojans,
B.T. Express,
David Axelrod,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Terry Callier,
China Crisis,
Archie Shepp,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bobby Sherman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gabor Szabo,
Deadbeat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wings,
Chrome,
The Misunderstood,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ice-T,
The Last Poets,
Frankie Knuckles,
Shoche,
Absolute Body Control,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Josef K,
Todd Rundgren,
Franke,
Howard Jones,
Idris Muhammad,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Bauhaus,
The Blackbyrds,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Parry Music,
The Velvet Underground,
Slave,
Whodini,
Lakeside,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare,
Magma,
The Invisible,
Yaz,
Theoretical Girls,
Symarip,
Agent Orange,
Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish, Lungfish.
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.