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 Somalia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marcia Griffiths to the punk 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 Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lou Reed,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lungfish,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
10cc,
The Human League,
The Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
Sexual Harrassment,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Gang Green,
John Coltrane,
Andrew Hill,
Hashim,
Eric Dolphy,
Angry Samoans,
Sight & Sound,
Ronan,
Jandek,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Detroit Cobras,
R.M.O.,
Tommy Roe,
The Remains,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Supertramp,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Slackers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gun Club,
Inner City,
Pierre Henry,
Cymande,
Dorothy Ashby,
Arcadia,
Darondo,
The Cure,
Camberwell Now,
Heaven 17,
48th St. Collective,
Brand Nubian,
Dawn Penn,
Livin' Joy,
Oblivians,
The Toasters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Eurythmics,
the Slits,
Radiohead,
Fad Gadget,
Todd Rundgren,
The Gories,
Joey Negro,
Agitation Free,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Junior Murvin,
Echospace,
DJ Sneak,
Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger, Sixth Finger.
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.