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 Togo and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the 808 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 Cosmic Jokers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Duran Duran tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Charles Mingus,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Saccharine Trust,
The Seeds,
The Gun Club,
the Human League,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Slick Rick,
The Kinks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ohio Players,
FM Einheit,
Roger Hodgson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Los Fastidios,
Ronan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sarah Menescal,
H. Thieme,
Kenny Larkin,
Lakeside,
Erasure,
Byron Stingily,
the Soft Cell,
John Holt,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Freddie Wadling,
Boredoms,
Hasil Adkins,
Negative Approach,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Piero Umiliani,
Bill Wells,
Bobby Hutcherson,
In Retrospect,
Bill Near,
Archie Shepp,
Stiv Bators,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bobby Womack,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Country Teasers,
Aloha Tigers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fela Kuti,
Crime,
Lower 48,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mark Hollis,
JFA,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.