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 Burkina and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Stiv Bators to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 PIL. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
The Slits,
June of 44,
Au Pairs,
Chrome,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sam Rivers,
Rosa Yemen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Moon,
Pierre Henry,
Fad Gadget,
John Cale,
The Wake,
Marshall Jefferson,
B.T. Express,
Los Fastidios,
Tim Buckley,
Maurizio,
Johnny Clarke,
Das Ding,
Magazine,
Ludus,
X-101,
Glenn Branca,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Moebius,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vainqueur,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Unrelated Segments,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mission of Burma,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Todd Terry,
Jacques Brel,
The Star Department,
Ultravox,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ice-T,
Massinfluence,
Black Flag,
The Misunderstood,
Laurel Aitken,
Boz Scaggs,
Minor Threat,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dual Sessions,
Brick,
Siglo XX,
Idris Muhammad,
Basic Channel,
Scratch Acid,
Zapp,
Nick Fraelich,
the Germs,
Absolute Body Control,
Scan 7,
DJ Sneak,
Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants, Young Marble Giants.
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.