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 Barbados 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Pantytec to the rap 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 The Knickerbockers. All the underground hits.
All Wings tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Marcia Griffiths,
Andrew Hill,
Sun City Girls,
Nico,
Youth Brigade,
Jacob Miller,
Ultra Naté,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Nas,
Terry Callier,
Simply Red,
One Last Wish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Junior Murvin,
Thompson Twins,
June of 44,
Steve Hackett,
Subhumans,
Joyce Sims,
Sarah Menescal,
Audionom,
Public Enemy,
Jandek,
Cameo,
Sixth Finger,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Interpol,
In Retrospect,
Tres Demented,
Khruangbin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Barrington Levy,
Donny Hathaway,
Kayak,
The Vogues,
Roger Hodgson,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Sneak,
B.T. Express,
Trumans Water,
Iggy Pop,
Visage,
Jacques Brel,
The Real Kids,
Cluster,
Hashim,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brothers Johnson,
Kenny Larkin,
The Fugs,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bad Manners,
The Cowsills,
Gang Starr,
JFA,
This Heat,
Minor Threat,
the Bar-Kays,
Henry Cow,
Patti Smith,
Stereo Dub,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.