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 Barbados and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Suicide to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Robert Hood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dawn Penn,
The Cowsills,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Red Krayola,
Marshall Jefferson,
La Düsseldorf,
Pantaleimon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Deakin,
Clear Light,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Move,
The Saints,
Eurythmics,
The Raincoats,
The Names,
Joe Finger,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Laurel Aitken,
Sam Rivers,
Black Pus,
Todd Rundgren,
Dennis Brown,
Outsiders,
Slick Rick,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Kas Product,
The Golliwogs,
Warren Ellis,
The Fortunes,
Ice-T,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Desert Stars,
Excepter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Shuggie Otis,
Boredoms,
the Sonics,
Mark Hollis,
Vainqueur,
The Pretty Things,
Tom Boy,
Scion,
Pussy Galore,
Cheater Slicks,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Normal,
the Soft Cell,
The Martian,
The Doors,
James White and The Blacks,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Beau Brummels,
Bob Dylan,
Dave Gahan,
Silicon Teens,
Erykah Badu,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.