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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 David Bowie 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 Bush Tetras to the grunge 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 The Beau Brummels. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Juan Atkins,
the Swans,
Lucky Dragons,
Pylon,
Loose Ends,
Bang On A Can,
Los Fastidios,
Dave Gahan,
Lakeside,
the Association,
Sarah Menescal,
Davy DMX,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Max Romeo,
These Immortal Souls,
the Germs,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Negative Approach,
Jacob Miller,
The Tremeloes,
Blancmange,
Wolf Eyes,
The Seeds,
Marc Almond,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nils Olav,
Ultra Naté,
Das Ding,
Ken Boothe,
The Red Krayola,
Spoonie Gee,
Jandek,
Brass Construction,
Flipper,
The Saints,
T.S.O.L.,
Arcadia,
Lou Christie,
Soft Cell,
The Walker Brothers,
Echospace,
The Monochrome Set,
Fugazi,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Panda Bear,
Niagra,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nik Kershaw,
Mo-Dettes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Animal Collective,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Masters at Work,
Maurizio,
10cc,
Little Man,
Symarip,
Rekid,
Alphaville,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.