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 Korea South and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 The Searchers to the grunge 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 Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Kayak,
Camouflage,
Barbara Tucker,
Funky Four + One,
Connie Case,
Warsaw,
Malaria!,
Eve St. Jones,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Judy Mowatt,
James White and The Blacks,
Minor Threat,
Camberwell Now,
The Selecter,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Archie Shepp,
The Slackers,
Lebanon Hanover,
These Immortal Souls,
Cluster,
The Birthday Party,
Patti Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Nico,
Unwound,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Harpers Bizarre,
Susan Cadogan,
Johnny Clarke,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cybotron,
The Kinks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Supertramp,
Mr. Review,
Depeche Mode,
The Pretty Things,
Sonic Youth,
Crooked Eye,
Juan Atkins,
Freddie Wadling,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Gories,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Drexciya,
Todd Rundgren,
Suburban Knight,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rufus Thomas,
Sandy B,
Jeff Mills,
Motorama,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Christie,
The Gap Band,
Second Layer,
Television Personalities,
FM Einheit,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.