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 Mongolia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 T.S.O.L. to the electroclash 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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fuzztones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe 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 sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scan 7,
Lucky Dragons,
EPMD,
Roxy Music,
Bob Dylan,
Barclay James Harvest,
Surgeon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Scion,
China Crisis,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Camouflage,
Quantec,
Quadrant,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
James White and The Blacks,
F. McDonald,
Anthony Braxton,
Marine Girls,
Lungfish,
Bush Tetras,
Main Source,
June of 44,
ABC,
The Modern Lovers,
Derrick May,
Rakim,
Circle Jerks,
Altered Images,
Bobby Sherman,
Stetsasonic,
Kerri Chandler,
Tres Demented,
The Durutti Column,
Eurythmics,
Funky Four + One,
Alison Limerick,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Moby Grape,
Nik Kershaw,
Moebius,
The Gladiators,
Tom Boy,
Roxette,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Livin' Joy,
The Real Kids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dark Day,
Brass Construction,
Yusef Lateef,
AZ,
Lyres,
Basic Channel,
Das Ding,
Urselle,
the Association,
John Coltrane,
Matthew Bourne,
The Standells,
Marc Almond,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.