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 Guinea-Bissau and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 the Germs to the rock 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soul II Soul record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
the Sonics,
Model 500,
The Invisible,
LL Cool J,
Camberwell Now,
The Moody Blues,
Gang Green,
The Motions,
Von Mondo,
Soft Cell,
Monolake,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Country Teasers,
Silicon Teens,
Amon Düül,
Quantec,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Swell Maps,
The Sonics,
Bill Near,
DJ Sneak,
Rufus Thomas,
Johnny Clarke,
the Soft Cell,
OOIOO,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reuben Wilson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marvin Gaye,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Theoretical Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Japan,
Joe Finger,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gregory Isaacs,
Index,
X-Ray Spex,
Interpol,
Thompson Twins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Desert Stars,
John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
Fat Boys,
Malaria!,
Robert Hood,
Kurtis Blow,
June Days,
Eve St. Jones,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Cramps,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Severed Heads,
Glenn Branca,
Alice Coltrane,
Bush Tetras,
Inner City,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.