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 Kuwait and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Dead C to the funk 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Albert Ayler,
Reagan Youth,
Erykah Badu,
The Pop Group,
New Order,
Rufus Thomas,
Carl Craig,
MC5,
Camberwell Now,
Marc Almond,
David McCallum,
Marine Girls,
Los Fastidios,
Hoover,
Junior Murvin,
Black Pus,
Khruangbin,
Rekid,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pierre Henry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Outsiders,
the Normal,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-101,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Eric Copeland,
Kool Moe Dee,
Soft Cell,
The Selecter,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Raincoats,
The Trojans,
Banda Bassotti,
Depeche Mode,
The Gun Club,
The Monochrome Set,
The Moody Blues,
Procol Harum,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fugazi,
Average White Band,
Groovy Waters,
Crime,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Index,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Arthur Verocai,
The Young Rascals,
The Wake,
Radio Birdman,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
The Searchers,
Nico,
Jeff Lynne,
Nirvana,
The Dirtbombs,
T.S.O.L.,
The Techniques,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.