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 Serbia and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the organ 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 Sexual Harrassment to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lindisfarne. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Trumans Water record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Marc Almond,
Accadde A,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Doors,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Eli Mardock,
Roxy Music,
John Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Boredoms,
Junior Murvin,
Barclay James Harvest,
Groovy Waters,
Pagans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Stiv Bators,
The Remains,
The Dave Clark Five,
Von Mondo,
ABC,
Rod Modell,
Sam Rivers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Flipper,
Ossler,
Crooked Eye,
Camouflage,
Dennis Brown,
Technova,
Nirvana,
Circle Jerks,
B.T. Express,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Barracudas,
T. Rex,
Arthur Verocai,
Black Flag,
Gregory Isaacs,
Man Parrish,
The Standells,
The Knickerbockers,
Joyce Sims,
Carl Craig,
David McCallum,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tim Buckley,
Gang Green,
Agent Orange,
Ohio Players,
Graham Central Station,
Sight & Sound,
Eve St. Jones,
The Beau Brummels,
Joey Negro,
Michelle Simonal,
John Foxx,
Skaos,
Subhumans,
Scientists,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.