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 Croatia and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 MC5 to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Buzzcocks,
Livin' Joy,
The New Christs,
Throbbing Gristle,
Crooked Eye,
Adolescents,
Stiv Bators,
Ultravox,
Toni Rubio,
Soul II Soul,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wolf Eyes,
Morten Harket,
PIL,
The Last Poets,
Brass Construction,
Dawn Penn,
Donald Byrd,
Yellowson,
Minny Pops,
Traffic Nightmare,
Interpol,
Tres Demented,
Patti Smith,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Skriet,
Derrick May,
Prince Buster,
Gang Green,
Boz Scaggs,
Maurizio,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Sonics,
Theoretical Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Circle Jerks,
The Beau Brummels,
Babytalk,
Scratch Acid,
Grauzone,
Ronnie Foster,
Flash Fearless,
Mars,
Intrusion,
Rakim,
Sandy B,
The Motions,
Parry Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
Sixth Finger,
Flipper,
Sonic Youth,
The Index,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Victims,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.