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 Laos and from Bologna.
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 Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 June Days to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Evens. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a cv313 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare,
Flipper,
One Last Wish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Minor Threat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The New Christs,
The J.B.'s,
Eurythmics,
The Fall,
T. Rex,
Glenn Branca,
Crooked Eye,
Malaria!,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angry Samoans,
Eric Copeland,
Patti Smith,
Thee Headcoats,
kango's stein massive,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ossler,
Interpol,
The Happenings,
Faust,
The Star Department,
Rufus Thomas,
D'Angelo,
B.T. Express,
Tubeway Army,
Todd Terry,
Absolute Body Control,
Joy Division,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Move,
Harry Pussy,
Slick Rick,
Magazine,
The Gladiators,
Peter & Gordon,
Yusef Lateef,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pierre Henry,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Selecter,
Jerry's Kids,
Jeff Lynne,
The Trojans,
Black Pus,
Althea and Donna,
Grandmaster Flash,
Masters at Work,
New Order,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Dirtbombs,
Barry Ungar,
Sandy B,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.