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 Bhutan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 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 June of 44 to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Kings Of Tomorrow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
DJ Sneak,
X-Ray Spex,
Q and Not U,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Supertramp,
Blancmange,
Grauzone,
Scratch Acid,
Althea and Donna,
The Five Americans,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Womack,
Sister Nancy,
The Busters,
Black Moon,
Delon & Dalcan,
Ohio Players,
Bauhaus,
The Kinks,
Fad Gadget,
Zero Boys,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Popol Vuh,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The New Christs,
Zapp,
Black Bananas,
The Remains,
Al Stewart,
The Grass Roots,
Hasil Adkins,
Lucky Dragons,
Excepter,
Adolescents,
Bad Manners,
Anthony Braxton,
Das Ding,
Unwound,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Christie,
The Electric Prunes,
Drexciya,
The Dirtbombs,
David McCallum,
The Pretty Things,
Sound Behaviour,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Yazoo,
L. Decosne,
the Swans,
MDC,
The Invisible,
Fluxion,
Soulsonic Force,
Barry Ungar,
Max Romeo,
Stockholm Monsters,
John Lydon,
Cymande,
Depeche Mode,
The Cowsills,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk, Babytalk.
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.