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 Togo and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Slackers to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Outsiders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
U.S. Maple,
Dual Sessions,
Shuggie Otis,
Ossler,
The Mummies,
The Pretty Things,
cv313,
Arthur Verocai,
Groovy Waters,
Young Marble Giants,
Connie Case,
Prince Buster,
Lalo Schifrin,
David Axelrod,
Darondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bill Near,
Howard Jones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Arab on Radar,
Bootsy Collins,
Big Daddy Kane,
Neil Young,
This Heat,
Maurizio,
Tres Demented,
Erasure,
The Angels of Light,
Heaven 17,
Boz Scaggs,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Tremeloes,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bobby Womack,
Neu!,
The Gap Band,
Stiv Bators,
Blossom Toes,
Second Layer,
Symarip,
Terry Callier,
The Cramps,
The Last Poets,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Skaos,
Blake Baxter,
Bush Tetras,
The Sonics,
Derrick May,
Gerry Rafferty,
Slave,
Minor Threat,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fugs,
Mantronix,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.