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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise 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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 linndrum 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 Mission of Burma to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Nation of Ulysses,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Neu!,
Connie Case,
the Germs,
The Divine Comedy,
Graham Central Station,
Angry Samoans,
KRS-One,
The Fall,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mo-Dettes,
Trumans Water,
Symarip,
Tom Boy,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The New Christs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Buzzcocks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Zero Boys,
Unrelated Segments,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The United States of America,
Crispy Ambulance,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arab on Radar,
Cybotron,
Leonard Cohen,
Bobby Womack,
U.S. Maple,
Man Eating Sloth,
Country Teasers,
Bang On A Can,
New York Dolls,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Maleditus Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jerry Gold Smith,
48th St. Collective,
Soft Cell,
Albert Ayler,
Radiopuhelimet,
Q and Not U,
Stereo Dub,
Spoonie Gee,
Nico,
Iggy Pop,
Erasure,
Brass Construction,
ABBA,
Junior Murvin,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.