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 San Marino and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Philadelphia.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the rock 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Lyres tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
PIL,
Janne Schatter,
Barbara Tucker,
Andrew Hill,
Tomorrow,
Black Pus,
Eve St. Jones,
Nirvana,
The Slits,
L. Decosne,
Radio Birdman,
Nico,
Deakin,
Bronski Beat,
DNA,
Minutemen,
Black Bananas,
Pet Shop Boys,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Wire,
Black Sheep,
Girls At Our Best!,
Gang of Four,
Unwound,
Swans,
Robert Wyatt,
Intrusion,
Dual Sessions,
Brick,
Ituana,
The Real Kids,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Style,
Terry Callier,
Mars,
Ten City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Quando Quango,
Roger Hodgson,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Sound,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ohio Players,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Blancmange,
Pagans,
R.M.O.,
Josef K,
The Remains,
Barclay James Harvest,
UT,
Black Flag,
The Black Dice,
Los Fastidios,
Henry Cow,
Mandrill,
The Cowsills,
Supertramp,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.