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 Bulgaria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the guitar 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 Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gregory Isaacs. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The New Christs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rapeman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
These Immortal Souls,
Brick,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Yusef Lateef,
Spandau Ballet,
Mission of Burma,
Alphaville,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
T.S.O.L.,
The Seeds,
Eric B and Rakim,
Clear Light,
Make Up,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
Wasted Youth,
Hardrive,
Camberwell Now,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Malaria!,
Fela Kuti,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aaron Thompson,
Skarface,
The Searchers,
Amazonics,
The Flesh Eaters,
Underground Resistance,
Chrome,
Siglo XX,
Little Man,
Liliput,
Faraquet,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Marcia Griffiths,
Heaven 17,
Gang of Four,
Ronnie Foster,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Kinks,
Gang Starr,
Tommy Roe,
Harry Pussy,
Robert Görl,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Depeche Mode,
Qualms,
Ohio Players,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
DJ Style,
Prince Buster,
Chris Corsano,
Rakim,
Model 500,
Man Eating Sloth,
A Certain Ratio,
Cymande,
The Divine Comedy,
The Music Machine,
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.