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 Grenada and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 T. Rex to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Jerry's Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sunsets and Hearts record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
The Durutti Column,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Cheater Slicks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Agitation Free,
Grey Daturas,
June Days,
The Smiths,
The Flesh Eaters,
L. Decosne,
Bizarre Inc.,
Swans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dark Day,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Angry Samoans,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sandy B,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Association,
Spoonie Gee,
Nik Kershaw,
The Skatalites,
Metal Thangz,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marc Almond,
The Alarm Clocks,
Young Marble Giants,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
T. Rex,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Urselle,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Hot Snakes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Essential Logic,
Lower 48,
Ludus,
Ronan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Judy Mowatt,
The Five Americans,
Harry Pussy,
The Wake,
Black Sheep,
Don Cherry,
Can,
The Dirtbombs,
Donald Byrd,
The Dave Clark Five,
Todd Rundgren,
Nils Olav,
Joe Smooth,
the Normal,
Ken Boothe,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.