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 Bangladesh and from Columbus.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe 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 Grass Roots to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Happenings 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vladislav Delay,
Sam Rivers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Junior Murvin,
Barbara Tucker,
X-101,
Bob Dylan,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Remains,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fire Engines,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Kinks,
Isaac Hayes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Danielle Patucci,
Kool Moe Dee,
Harry Pussy,
Kaleidoscope,
Thee Headcoats,
Pierre Henry,
Swans,
The Neon Judgement,
Lightning Bolt,
Mantronix,
Public Enemy,
The Sound,
Panda Bear,
The Blues Magoos,
The Trojans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
David Bowie,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monks,
Ituana,
Matthew Bourne,
Neu!,
Skriet,
Siglo XX,
Scratch Acid,
The Walker Brothers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
Judy Mowatt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
DNA,
Pantaleimon,
John Foxx,
Piero Umiliani,
Idris Muhammad,
Delon & Dalcan,
Shuggie Otis,
Jeff Mills,
Aloha Tigers,
Cecil Taylor,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Byrd,
Make Up,
Grey Daturas,
John Cale,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.