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 Benin and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Seeds to the electroclash 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funky Four + One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
David Axelrod,
CMW,
The Doors,
Monolake,
Kerri Chandler,
Eve St. Jones,
Anthony Braxton,
Babytalk,
X-Ray Spex,
Mr. Review,
Robert Hood,
Aloha Tigers,
Saccharine Trust,
The Five Americans,
Livin' Joy,
Amon Düül II,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tubeway Army,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Dead C,
Ponytail,
Tim Buckley,
Lindisfarne,
Jacques Brel,
the Germs,
The Standells,
Althea and Donna,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Barclay James Harvest,
Robert Görl,
Lakeside,
The Pretty Things,
Swans,
Radio Birdman,
Public Enemy,
Roxy Music,
Robert Wyatt,
The Evens,
Susan Cadogan,
Joyce Sims,
Throbbing Gristle,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Flamin' Groovies,
Gastr Del Sol,
Blossom Toes,
Chris Corsano,
The Smoke,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Dual Sessions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Red Krayola,
Blancmange,
Aswad,
Freddie Wadling,
Marmalade,
The Moleskins,
June Days,
Howard Jones,
Jeff Mills,
Gerry Rafferty,
Davy DMX,
Soul II Soul,
Fear,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.