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 St Lucia and from Madrid.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin 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 marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
the Germs,
Sonic Youth,
Boz Scaggs,
Accadde A,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
E-Dancer,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Angels of Light,
Deepchord,
Aural Exciters,
Mandrill,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Hot Snakes,
Black Flag,
Lalann,
The Mighty Diamonds,
John Coltrane,
Reagan Youth,
Television,
The Shadows of Knight,
Alison Limerick,
Morten Harket,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Soul II Soul,
The Misunderstood,
10cc,
Howard Jones,
The Sound,
Fat Boys,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mad Mike,
Neil Young,
Moss Icon,
Supertramp,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Vogues,
Vainqueur,
Moebius,
Godley & Creme,
The Gladiators,
Amon Düül,
The Pop Group,
The Evens,
Hoover,
Rosa Yemen,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
L. Decosne,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
Altered Images,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Slave,
Chrome,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.