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 Yemen and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 güiro 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 Henry Cow to the techno 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 Excepter. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lyres record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sarah Menescal,
The Seeds,
48th St. Collective,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Television,
Brick,
Pole,
Lou Christie,
Monks,
Bad Manners,
Pulsallama,
Au Pairs,
The Happenings,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Moleskins,
Anthony Braxton,
Sixth Finger,
Agent Orange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kayak,
The Durutti Column,
Kevin Saunderson,
New Age Steppers,
Roger Hodgson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
ABC,
the Swans,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
L. Decosne,
Arcadia,
Harmonia,
Rhythm & Sound,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Clear Light,
Schoolly D,
The Mummies,
Interpol,
The Standells,
New Order,
Cecil Taylor,
Freddie Wadling,
Neu!,
Mr. Review,
The Buckinghams,
Ossler,
The Zeros,
The Mojo Men,
Todd Rundgren,
Crime,
Kerri Chandler,
Rod Modell,
Bluetip,
Moebius,
A Flock of Seagulls,
T.S.O.L.,
Main Source,
Minor Threat,
Lalann,
Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys, Fat Boys.
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.