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 Netherlands and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
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 Michael McDonald 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 Metal Thangz to the jazz 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 Bluetip. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobbi Humphrey record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Albert Ayler,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
China Crisis,
Magma,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
New Order,
Public Enemy,
Matthew Bourne,
Q and Not U,
The Pretty Things,
The Mummies,
Iggy Pop,
David McCallum,
Unwound,
the Germs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ossler,
Erasure,
Gang Starr,
Depeche Mode,
Boogie Down Productions,
Schoolly D,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Banda Bassotti,
Donald Byrd,
Barbara Tucker,
The Last Poets,
Minor Threat,
Camberwell Now,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boz Scaggs,
kango's stein massive,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Remains,
Joey Negro,
Quadrant,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moebius,
Interpol,
Anakelly,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
F. McDonald,
Gabor Szabo,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Essential Logic,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Silicon Teens,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sonny Sharrock,
Funky Four + One,
Parry Music,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Neil Young,
Outsiders,
K-Klass,
Lyres,
Pantaleimon,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.